You Asked Me To
by LibraMoon
Summary: Smutty Germerica! Per request. Likely will turn into a one-shot series. Northern Italy was concerned that Germany was getting lonely. GermanyxFem!America. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

_**Okay, the long awaited Smutty Germerica Fic. I really wasn't sure what to do... so... um... here you go. **_

_**Also, I will be updating Enslavement, Followed by Foolish notions, and De Katten Drinken Bier**_

_**I own nothing. Rated M. This is SMUT. Just in case that was not clear already.**_

**OoOoOo**

Northern Italy paced the floor nervously.

He was so happy to live with his big brother, Southern Italy, whom had been raised primarily by Spain. However, even though he was quite happy, he worried about Germany. It had been years since Northern Italy had kept Germany company at night. Because Southern Italy insisted that he not have any more sleepovers with 'The Potato Bastard'.

Northern Italy had not wanted to agree, but he could not deny his big brothers -somewhat- heartfelt objection. Northern Italy loved his brother, but he also saw Germany as a big brother of sorts. So it made him anxious to leave Germany all alone in his home.

With the exception of Prussia, of course.

He wanted to check in on how Germany was faring at night. Was he lonely without someone to cuddle him? Was he sleeping well? Northern Italy had no way to assess this, without breaking his word to Southern Italy. Something he really did not wish to do.

So, the small nation fretted nonstop.

What to do? What to do?

The answer came in the form of America, the nation that walked in on his nervous pacing, as she sipped a coke from a can.

"Hey dude!" She called exuberantly, and went back to her drink. "How's it going?"

The green-eyed nation looked up, and a thought formed in his head. Perhaps he could keep his promise to his brother, and still check on Germany!

"America!" Northern Italy said with excitement. His bright smile nearly eclipsed his entire face.

"That's me." She joked with a large laugh.

The male nation came closer to her. "Do you, have a moment?"

She tilted her head, Nantucket swayed with the action. Her blue eyes were curious behind Texas, and she looked at him with a soft smile.

"Sure dude, watcha need?"

Northern Italy looked down, and then back up to America. His eyes closed slightly as he mustered up his courage.

"Could you, possibly, do something for me?" He asked with a hint of pleading in his otherwise cheerful words.

Her face changed from curious to concerned in an instant. "What is it?" Her blue eyes never wavered from his nervous-if not twitchy- smile.

"Would you, even consider, checking on Germany for me?"

America flashed him an confused expression. "Uh... he's fine. I just saw him, like two minutes ago."

"No, no," Northern Italy said, nearly apologetically, as he shook his head. "I am worried that he might be lonely."

"I think you'd better start at the beginning," America suggested, no less confused than before. "Because Germany is many things, but I doubt _lonely_ is one of them, dude. "

The man could practically crush a truck with his bare hands... which... actually had nothing to do with being lonely, America realized as she shook her head. She had been learning to pay a bit more attention to others.

So Northern Italy set about filling America in on his concerns, and how the female nation could help him. Something she readily agreed to. Because, that is what heroes did.

OoOoOo

Germany was exhausted.

A long day of paperwork, and fixing other people's mistakes had taken a toll on the nation. He straightened his back, and fought back a groan of relief when his spine popped. He had managed to get home, and in the door before yawing. It was a struggle to make it all the way to his room. With practiced ease, he flipped don the lights with one hand as he untied his tie with the other.

He had leisurely undressed, and gathered up his night clothes. Germany had barely had enough energy to take his evening shower. Though it was strange, Prussia normally took his shower in the mornings. However, the soap was still wet when Germany reached for it. It lathered easily, which he did not mind over much in his tired state.

Once he was clean and dry, he put on his night shirt and a pair of boxers. He was eager to lay his head upon his pillow.

He made sure to put his used towel in the laundry basket and brush his teeth. Once he was finished, he turned off the lights in the bathroom and headed back toward his room. He sighed, quiet happy to be so close to sleep, as he then turned the lights off overhead and got into bed.

Germany rolled on his side, content to close his eyes and fall into a blissful good night's sleep. However, he felt as well as heard something move. His eyelids snapped open, and he turned his head to see the human-shaped lump under the covers that he had not noticed before.

His irritation spiked to new heights. Italy had abandoned his habit of sneaking into his bed for decades now. The blonde haired male bit back a curse as he flung the covers off of the bed. However, the sight that greeted him, was not what he expected.

Instead of a red-haired, very familiar, male nation. There was a head of slightly mussed blonde hair, with a cowlick jutting out on the pillow. Germany's eyes widened comically, as he could not believe what he was seeing.

America had snuck into his bed?! His face heated up, as he stared down at her sleeping form. What was this? He had made a nearly bumbling fool of himself at the last meeting, trying to get her to agree to having a meeting over coffee.

She had misunderstood his intentions, and had shown up with her own coffee... to the world meeting. He hadn't been able to even object. It wasn't against what he had said, but he did not know how to communicate properly with the Star-Spangled nation.

"America!" He shouted, partly out of disbelief and partly out of embarrassment. How the hell had she gotten into his house?

Sleepy blue eyes opened slowly, and Germany was already more than a touch upset over the fact that she'd just let herself into his home. As well as his bed. But, he also noted that her hair was slightly damp.

Had she used his shower as well? That explained why his soap had already been moist. He frowned heavily at the female nation. It would have been at least polite for her to ask. Then again, he hadn't been expecting her in the first place.

"Germany?" She asked, a little groggily. "That you?"

"Who else would it be?" He snapped out.

"Prussia?"

He paused at that. Alright, so technically she was correct. He could have been Prussia. Speaking of which..

"Did Prussia let you in?" He asked with narrowed eyes.

She nodded, and covered her mouth as she yawned. "Yeah dude." She muttered as she propped herself up on one elbow. Her free hand reached for Texas, on the night stand.

How the hell had he missed seeing that as well? Germany knew he must have been dedicating too many hours to work, if he was missing the obvious signs of someone being in his room. He was going to lecture Prussia tomorrow morning about just allowing nations to come into his room.

"What are you doing in my bed?" He asked crossly, hoping to combat his embarrassment with anger. It worked many times.

America blinked at him, her eyes clearing from their sleep as she became more aware. A smile bloomed on her lips and she was unperturbed by his obvious anger. Germany was always like that, a little rough around the edges.

"Italy asked me to come," she told him simply as she stretched.

Germany's blue eyes landed on her breasts as the pushed upward as she moved. He also noticed that she was wearing a shirt and panties. Not much else. He swallowed, suddenly aware that he was alone in his bed with a half-clothed woman.

He flushed.

"It-Italy?"He parroted back, coughing slightly to cover his embarrassment.

America let her arms drop above her head, and onto the bed. She turned her head more fully toward Germany, drawing her legs up slightly. An easy smile was still on her face, as she nodded again.

"Yeah, he asked me to check in on you." She explained honestly.

Germany's pulse sped up at the unintentionally provocative display she was giving him. She looked so innocent and touchable that he wanted to put his hands on her. He could hear the way his blood thundered in his ears.

"Check on me?" He repeated, as he willed his eyes not to linger on how soft the skin of her thighs looked. Or how he could see the barest hints of underwear, just below the hem of her shirt. Germany took a moment to steady himself as he tried to forget the very lustful thoughts that circulated through his brain.

America had always been... someone he had to tell himself not to stare at. Sometimes out of politeness, and sometimes because she was so adorably clueless that he wanted to-

"Uh-huh," she interrupted his vapor-thin beginnings of a fantasy. Her blue eyes locked with his. Her wheat-colored hair smelled faintly of his shampoo.

Germany suddenly wasn't as upset about her using his shower. His face was still flushed as America grinned at him.

"He was worried you were getting lonely."

The male nation said nothing, he just continued to stare at America as she looked at him honestly.

"So, I figured I'd stop by and you could do with me what you always did with Italy." She offered sincerely.

Germany's thoughts went from mostly innocent to flat out erotic in the space of a single heart beat.

"Do with you," he said with his voice dropping an octave, "what I did with Italy?"

She nodded.

He hadn't ever really done anything with Italy, except to fight the smaller male for the covers. His blue eyes darkened and he glanced away from America.

"What did he tell you that we did?" He asked, nearly neutrally.

She blinked, and shifted slightly, one leg moved over the other as she turned on her side. "Huh," America said after a moment. "He didn't really say."

It was wrong, so very wrong, but Germany had the slightly amoral thought to do things with America that he had never done with Northern Italy. He swallowed heavily. If she objected, he promised himself he would stop. However, he was no longer tired and there was an attractive woman telling him to 'do things' with her.

"I see." Germany said, his eyes tightened momentarily, as he moved his hand toward her face. Testing the waters.

America simply continued to grin at him. Germany bit back a moan of pleasure at the innocent look on her face, that he hoped would soon be clouded with lust. Gently, he cupped her face.

"We can do anything you want," she added with a bright look in blue eyes. Yet, it was guileless and not meant to be as provocative as it sounded."

"Anything I want?" The male nation asked with a hazy appearance to his usual stern gaze, which landed on America's lips. He swallowed.

"Germany?"

He stared at her for a moment longer, battling with himself over even considering about doing what he actually wanted to do. At some point, he must have mentally accepted that he was going to make the attempt, because he leaned down and kissed America.

She gave a slight squeak of surprise, but did not move to push him away. Germany shifted forward, closer to the star-spangled nation. In the darkness of the room, the sensation of his hands searching for uncovered skin was heightened. He did not mind the cloth, but it was not bare and soft female flesh under his touch.

He pulled back, his eyes glittered with unspoken lust and a bittersweet sort of yearning that America would not object to his advances.

Quietly, the female nation blinked up at him. Her face was slightly flushed, he could see from the trailing beams of moon light that filtered in from his bedroom window. She bit her lip, and her blue eyes met his as she seemed to come to a decision. America took off Texas, and put it back on the night stand.

Shyly, and it was strange to Germany to see her that way, America gingerly pulled him back down. A groan of appreciation left his throat as her lips melded against his. Slowly her lips parted and she allowed him entrance. Germany wasted no time in plundering the sweet depths.

The kiss broke, and he moved to straddle her. America's eyes widened and she stared at him with an expression that suggested she was actually close to running away. He did not want to push her. He stilled, settling for laying closely next to her.

"We don't have to," he said, slightly disappointed but understanding. Germany knew he shouldn't think that something might happen between them due to a mutual attraction. At least, he hoped it was mutual.

She wasn't pummeling him into the floor, and she had relaxed at his words.

"No," she said softly, "I _want _to." She looked away shyly and then back at him. It turned him on even more to see how demure she was acting. It was a complete difference from her self-assured attitude in the meetings.

"It's just... uh..." she coughed slightly, "been... a while. Ya know?" She asked rhetorically.

Germany blinked down at her, disbelief etched on his face.

"What?" He asked, not actually meaning to say it out loud.

America wrung her hands in a nervous manner. He had never seen America nervous before.

"It's just been...," she mumbled something unintelligible.

Germany kissed her quickly. "What?" He repeated, now that she had answered his question once before.

"It's been about two hundred years." She admitted with her face flushing darker. There was a subtle vulnerability in her words.

He felt as if someone had struck him with a two by four. He couldn't quite catch his breath as excitement burned in his stomach. So the rumors about America's past exploits were simply cruel insinuations. Somehow the thought of her spending her nights alone in her bed, waiting for a lover to come only served to fuel some of his baser fantasies.

His look turned from overly gentle to nearly predatory.

"_Two hundred years?"_

She glowered at him, a pout on her lips. He regretted his question the moment it left his lips. She looked so uncomfortable, that it bothered him. Germany hadn't meant to make her feel self conscious. A soft sensation of guilt prickled at his consciousness. he wanted to soothe away her concerns and lavish her with his attention. He was desperate to touch her.

Something sparked in Germany, a way to learn more about the nation that seemed to forever be just out of his reach. Except for tonight. He kissed her again, and America's pout was soon forgotten as they tasted each other. His tongue slowly slipped across hers. The heat and the moisture were exquisite as Germany used one hand to lift the hem of her shirt. He slid his hand downward, inside the band of her underwear.

America gasped as Germany pulled back to watch her face as he touched her. He wanted to see her eyes nearly glow with pleasure and to see her features twisted in ecstasy. Slowly he moved his fingers to most sensitive region. A tiny movement of her hips against his hand took away concerns he had about her willingness.

A nation had to be certain about such things.

The soft scent of his soap and shampoo that clung to her made him feel just a tad more dominant over woman that could easily knock him across the room. Yet, her eyes darkened to match his own, as his fingers stroked her slickened opening. She was already warm and inviting. He shuddered at the realization that he had barely touched her, but her responsiveness to him was heightening his arousal and anticipation.

"Who?" He asked gruffly, a slightly wild look was in his eyes.

America's lips parted in mild surprise, the tingling pleasure she was gaining from his talented hand did not mute out the nearly commanding tone in his voice. Her arms snaked around his neck as their forms melded against each other. She found it somewhat endearing, but still a tad strange, that he would care to know who her past lover had been. It was ages ago, and though some nations had made lewd suggestions nothing had happened since her few passionate embraces centuries past.

There had never been anyone that seemed overly interested in a hyperactive nation with more lobbying political agendas than one could shake a stick at. Yet, there was something about Germany which made her feel... safe. Wanted, even. It was nearly intoxicating.

"Canada?" Germany questioned, undeterred by her silence.

"What?" She asked dimly aware that she was slowly lifting her hips in time with his hand. Her breathing hitched as moved to kiss him again.

Their lips pressed together, and her mouth opened to him willingly again. The heat and closeness of the male nation made her inner muscles clench, her desire was muddled by a hint of impatience.

"Was it Canada?" He asked, as soon as the kiss broke.

"No. England," she admitted with a soft moan as his fingers worked their magic. America felt her passage turn slicker under his skillful onslaught. He was stroking, teasing, and plunging into her depths enough to make her legs start to tremble slightly.

Germany made a noise in the back of his throat, one of possessive displeasure. That certainly explained why England still watched America so closely. Germany had foolishly assumed it was to look out for her welfare. Now he wasn't so certain that the older nation was just keeping a friendly eye out. England knew every curve on the star-spangled nation. Curves that Germany was now more determined to know. He wanted his touch to erase even the faintest memories of England in her mind.

He pulled out from her folds, and America made a noise of protest, but she watched as Germany covered her with his body. He nudged her thighs apart, so that he could kneel between them.

"To many damn clothes," he muttered as the intense desire in his blue eyes nearly stole her breath away.

She felt as if her body was burning with untapped sexual tension as he tugged at the buttons of her night shirt. Soon her bra was exposed to the slightly cooler air and she savored the contrast between it compared to Germany's heat. America's thoughts scattered slightly. Her back arched upward, her body nearly pleading with the male nation to touch more of her.

A ripping noise was her only warning before her nipples were hit with the sensation of the bedroom air. Germany wasted no time in sucking one pert peak into his mouth. America cried out and writhed against him. Her passion ignited to a higher level even as she reminded herself not to accidentally buck him off.

Because he touched her as if she were breakable. Her. America. The United States. The country that no one thought twice about resulting to rougher shoves or punches. She twisted underneath him, nearly shaking as tears gathered in her eyes.

The blonde female closed them swiftly. She would not cry. Even when his touches burned a path of fiery desire across her skin. She could feel it. It was almost as if he were showing her the passions he kept buried inside. Yet, despite all of that, she did could sense that he was not simply after his own pleasure.

She sensed it by the way he moved from one nipple to the other, paying it an equal amount of attention. Or by how his hands seemed to be everywhere on her heated flesh. If felt as if he could not get enough of her. Something that America had always longed for.

His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin of her clavicle, after he released a turgid nipple from his ministrations. His tongue had flicked across the bud repeatedly, and America had made the sweetest sounds under him.

He noticed that she was panting, and his want to be inside her could not be denied any longer. There was a feverish passion in her gaze that made him feel more powerful than anything else in the world. With measured strength, he tugged off the thin cotton barrier separating her from his heated flesh.

Carnality spurred between them as America urged him on by reaching between their bodies, and helping him remove his own clothing. The blush on her cheeks deepened and he marveled at how innocently wanton she looked in the moonlight.

Her fingers traced his length with a tentative touch. Her blue eyes flicked to his, almost as if she were unsure if he wanted to continue. An adorably lost expression was evident on her face. He pressed a hand against hers, encouraging the female nation to touch as well.

Germany had thought to speed things up, but in light of the nearly skittish way America was treating caressing his skin, he coaxed her with languid kisses and sensual touches to explore him to her heart's desire.

And she did. Her touch was far from his practiced level of skill. America charged into the act head long, once she reached a certain level of comfort. The teasing continued until he had her all but pulling at his hair to get him to take her.

He enjoyed the clouded look in her eyes, when they were filled with reciprocated lust and trust.

"Germany," she nearly demanded, ready to end the sweet torment he inflicted on her body. The pleasurable suffering that was threatening to drive her mad. She wanted him. All of him. And, she wanted it _now_.

He chuckled at her tone of voice, murmuring words that were gentle at the same time they sounded rough. It was a perfect combination as she pulled him down toward her. He tightened his hold on her, looking into her eyes.

Different shades of lust darkened blue met as he thrust into her with deliberate slowness.

America nearly screamed at the sensation of him. Hot and hard, filling her. It was too much and yet, it was nowhere near enough.

"Fuck. _Deutschland,"_ she whimpered as she moved her hands to stroke his back in encouragement. Her legs wrapped around his waist, to keep him from getting away.

Not that Germany wanted to leave the tight, slick, heat that America offered as she enveloped his shaft in her the depths of her body. A sexy smirk found its way on his face at her voiced approval. He enjoyed the sounds she made, even as he drove them both to the brink of insanity with his slow thrusting.

He had no desire to cause her pain. Not when he was laying claim to her body with the greatest sensuality he could muster. Perspiration gleamed on the areas around his temples. His mouth nipped and nibbled at America's neck.

She rolled her hips toward him, coaxing him to go deeper. He shuddered when at last he was buried in her fully.

The pair paused, and stopped lavishing her neck with attention to stare down at America. Her skin was flushed with the obvious evidence of her excitement. A question burned in his gaze. Was she alright?

America's half-hooded eyes closed briefly and she allowed her racing heart to take a moment. It had been so long since she had been caught up in an intimate embrace. Her hips moved, wiggling around his hardness and Germany groaned.

There was a slight stinging sensation from his invasion, but he had been very gentle with her and did his best to prepare her. She savored the feeling and the scent of him. It was clean and male. It caused her inner muscles to clench at the thought.

Germany pressed his forehead against hers. America shuddered as the movement caused his hips to rock against hers. He panted, and tugged at her arm. America released her hold on him around his neck, but kept her legs around his waist.

He shifted more weight to his knees, withdrawing slowly and she made a soft gasp of pleasure. His hands found hers and pinned them to the mattress. Their fingers interlocked.

America had never felt this sort of intensity before, this level of gentle longing, and it was terrifying. However, there was a part of her that trusted Germany. She couldn't explain it, nor understand it. Yet, despite her misgivings and uncertainty, there was more than simple lust.

So much more, when she was bound with him like this.

He began moving, slowly at first, losing himself in a steady rhythm that had America's hands tightening around his, as her inner muscles mimicked the movement. She squeezed him in nearly perfect unison. HIs thoughts were focused solely on finding a blissful release for both of them.

He moved within her, causing America to rock against him as she tried to meet him thrust for thrust. Her legs drew up higher, allowing him to go deeper. Germany groaned his approval at the slightly altered angle. A small part of his mind whispered to him, that for such a talkative nation, America did not say much when she was too busy taking his cock to care for words.

She moaned and whimpered for him to help her reach the plateau she was racing toward. The waves of pleasure washed over her. Germany was a freaking sex machine! America could hardly process how he knew where to touch or tease to have her responding almost instantly.

All too soon, or perhaps it had been far longer than she knew, America was close to her release.

"G-Germany," she said, nearly pleading for him not to stop. Please, not while she was so very close. Her body tightened, yearned, ached, and finally she arched beneath him one last time. Her eyelids fluttered closed as her mind buzzed with the pleasure she did not want to deny.

America's smooth muscles contracted with her release. She felt as if she had blasted off toward the moon for the first time, like she had so long ago, before falling back down to earth. Only she never left his arms. Germany was thrusting hotly within the nearly vice-like grip of her passage as she caused him to hurtle to his own pinnacle experience.

His head dropped to the pillow, their cheeks touching as they both sucked in shuddering breaths. America listened to his harsh breathing, even as she could feel his racing heartbeat. Hers was no better off.

Gently, he withdrew, collapsing to the side of the female nation. Her blue eyes opened and she stared up at the ceiling. She did her dead level best not to over think what had just happened in the wake of the mind returning to higher thought.

How was she going to explain this to Northern Italy?

_Oh lord. _

"So," America said slowly, once their breathing returned to normal and the pleasant afterglow subsided. "This... is what you did with Italy?"

Germany laughed huskily, as he pulled her closer to his side. His usually stern expression was much more relaxed and even a touch smug. Her leg draped over his as she waited for his answer.

"Nein."

"Oh thank God." she replied, clearly relieved.

He kissed the top of her head, and America reached over him to pull the covers up around them. Germany kept her warm and safe in the shelter of his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

_**OMEGAVERSE! Based off of my other Omegaverse chapter in Norge. I gave up on accidentally butchering the German language with Google Translate... hence the English. **_

_**Also, I will be updating De Katten Drinken Bier, (New Story) A FranceXFemUS request, What happened to Lithuania, And Last Cry of the Humans. **_

_**I own nothing. Rated M. **_

OoOoOo

He could sense it. He could smell it. The male could practically taste it.

The nearly overwhelming call to mate.

The pheromones of dozens of Alphas and Betas. The sweet-tangy scents of a few Omegas peppered the stronger scents and he narrowed his gaze at the surrounding trees. There was beauty in the patch of the world that was meant to be the 'meeting' . This was the way that society kept from collapsing. He valued the idea and stood behind it.

Beauty from order. Life that denied the chaos caused by their biology.

He was an Alpha that found a large sense of purpose and security in the foundations and rules that kept the world running. When he had been selected, it had been after rigorous coursework and physical evaluation. Germany would not accept a weakling as their representative, and he was no weakling. He was considered a fine specimen to bring his nation a good union at this decade's meeting.

Though he was a younger man, he was proud to embody the hopes and dreams of his people. Germany was depending upon him to secure a good and strong alliance that would permit them to continue to advance without creating problematic political squabbles. Also, it would allow their country to move forward on ground-breaking recycling technology that would benefit the Earth.

A noble goal, he thought.

Granted, every nation faithfully participated and had agreed firmly to the ten year treaty length. Which had proven in the past to keep wars to a bare minimum. It had also allowed for wars in progress to be stopped as allies from previous times were sided with new countries.

He was called by his nation now. A physical manifestation, almost, of their hopes and dreams. There was a large sense of pride in such a thing. Some fear and worry as well. However, he took his duties very seriously, and would not permit himself to mate the very first 'nation' that crossed his path.

Germany was undeterred.

It would be fine, because Betas could still submit an Alpha. Omegas were ideal, politically speaking-and would be easier for him as an Alpha-, if one nation possessed more power than another but the weaker nation had an Alpha. It allowed for an equal balance of power.

In theory.

However, when he had first started his trek into the woods which housed the 'meeting' because it was the 'neutral zone', he had been optimistic. Surely he could find a suitable mate, and therefore a suitable ally for Germany?

Hearing his country called, had filled him with a deep sense of pride. Yet, as the minutes turned to hours, he was growing increasingly agitated. There was an unprecedented number of Alphas and Betas this year. Omegas, the type he had been secretly hopeful for, were in shorter supply.

Germany was a tad disappointed, and the leader of his country had made certain to inform him of this unexpected occurrence. He would not succumb to worry over the future.

Yet.

He allowed for the fact that such a desperate move might become necessary if other prime candidates were unavailable or already mated. He had been forced to stare down with another Alpha that had ultimately ended up claiming the Beta whom Germany had been following the scent of. It was no great loss to the blonde Alpha. The Beta had been close by and time was starting to drag on. Germany was not even certain he would have accepted the Beta. The scent was not quite correct for his tastes.

He'd been overly picky, perhaps?

Well, it was a mate he would have for life, so being particular was not uncalled for. However, potential mates were dwindling as the scents of pairs copulating saturated the air.

The bitterly strong musk of other Alphas assaulted his nose.

It irked him, due to the fact that the other Alphas were all competitors to Germany. Which meant another possible ally being taken by a less deserving male or female.

The hours crept by, as he stalked through the forest, crushing twigs underneath his feet. The leaves rustled overhead with the wind, dancing playfully as he found fewer and fewer possible matches.

That was until the he caught a whiff of something that called to his baser nature.

The blonde man expertly followed his senses toward a stronger, and more beguiling scent. He hoped that he was the only Alpha to find it. Part of him already grew slightly possessive, as he wanted to have the owner of the soft scent.

Germany had skillfully avoided accidentally stumbling into the pairs that cropped up throughout the wooded area at random intervals. He did not need the obstacle of an enraged Alpha on his hands as he was trying to locate what his body was nearly demanding.

To bury his nose in the neck of whoever possessed that smell.

The scent was softer, nearly unassuming and... sweeter? Germany felt his instincts perk up at as he recognized the subtle pheromones of a person that was decidedly not Alpha, the closer he came to where it originated.

He scanned the surrounding area, and a flash of bright color caught his attention.

A female sat on a rock, staring forlornly at a tree. Germany was uncertain as to why she would simply be sitting. Did she not know that the 'meeting' was still going? Should she not be off looking for a mate? Or was this a strategy for mates to come to her? He did not know, but he was determined to learn more as he moved forward.

Bright blue eyes locked with his for a single instant as she turned toward the rustling he made through the bushes. He was not attempting to startle her. However, he did need to investigate the scent that grew stronger, the closer he got to her.

_Not Alpha._ His mind seemed to purr with contentment. As if his thoughts required even more evidence, the blonde shifted.

She moved to stand, her eyes wandered over him with curiosity. However, she never once allowed her gaze to meet his directly. Her gaze lingered on him as if she were seeing what he was, or perhaps who he was. Either was a possibility.

Germany indulged her. He drew closer still. A more intrigued look on his face as the female lowered her eyes quickly.

_Submissive._ The same animalistic side of him crooned with delight. Germany's gaze narrowed on the female.

A pin, boasting red, white, and blue with stars flashed up at him. The male blinked. He would have expected the United States of America to have already secured a mate. What was she still doing out here? Perhaps he had incorrectly identified the flag?

No. That was not possible. Yet, he felt compelled to check.

"American?" He asked with clear surprise, his blue eyes raked over the blonde as she kept her gaze lowered.

"Yes," she said with a polite tone. He nearly growled his approval. She was not too skittish to speak to him. Then again, she was apparently American. His rested over her, nearly caressing, as he was pleased at what he saw.

_Beta?_ He wondered.

She fidgeted in the silence that lingered between them, and he caught the acidic scents of worry and concern. America made no move to leave, or to challenge him. She simply... waited.

He found that rather strange. Surely a Beta would at least attempt to discern if he was a strong enough Alpha to control her? Or was she down to him as her only option? If so, why? The muddled scents around him made it harder to decipher hers. The sweetness seemed wrong for a Beta. However it certainly came from her. It was softer, but the air was ripe with so many overlapping scents.

Yet, her behavior led him to almost believe that she was...

No. That was impossible. The United States would never send...

_An Omega?_

"You..." he said, as if he could not believe the very idea. "_You_ are an Omega?"

She gave a slight whine in the back of her throat, but nodded stiffly. Her eyes widened in slight shock, but never rose higher than his chin.

"You speak English?" She questioned. America appeared to freeze, scarcely drawing a breath.

"Ja."

She made a noise that was a cross between relief and fear. Part of him responded to the Omega's distress, and Germany found himself drawing closer toward her, as if to comfort her. He had not intended to frighten her. However, his nearness only made her lower her head a tad more.

_Submissive._ The carnal part of him crooned again. Germany bit back a groan of pleasure at the thought. No, he needed to address this with a level head.

He noticed that her blue eyes stared straight at his pin.

"Germany?" She questioned with a strange look flashing across her face.

"Ja?" He replied absently, his body commanded him to move closer to the female who kept her head at the appropriate height. She did not lower it further, signifying true submission to him as an Alpha mate, nor did she raise it to issue a challenge to him. The blonde male watched her with equal parts curiosity and arousal.

She was enticing, in her own way. The stray lock of hair that stood up, and her glasses did nothing to detract from the fact that she actually was quite pretty. The omega was smaller than him, and he drew in a deep breath. Her scent was that subtle fragrance he had been following.

Tantalizing. She was a kind of temptation.

He moved even closer, nearly overwhelming her, but America did not back up. He was close enough that he could feel the heat off her body. She held her ground, as he noticed her scent began to spike with undertones of arousal.

"You're sniffing me." America stated bluntly, as a soft blush worked its way onto her cheeks.

The male nation reared back, his face turning red as he stared at the Omega whose features were half-hopeful but also a little nervous. Shy even.

"Do you object?" He asked evenly, though he fought against apologizing for the intrusion on her personal space. She was an Omega. He was an Alpha. However, that did not mean he was without manners.

"No, no," she said hurriedly, bringing a hand up to cover her face. "It's fine. Really, I..."

The howls of ecstasy from other pairs disturbed the awkward meeting between the two 'nations'. America shifted from one foot to the other, and Germany caught the thickening perfume of her arousal. Both were reminded that this was a time meant for mating.

He swallowed as the Omega before him bit her lip. She seemed to waiver on indecision, and he was mentally considering if he should accept her as a mate. They were running out of time, and presumably, options. Not that he saw her as a last resort.

In fact, the pragmatic Alpha found that he was already a bit keen on the idea of having the American. His body moved, and he slowly started to circle around her. His blue eyes were nearly predatory, and he allowed his scent to wash over her. Though he cut an intimidating figure, she did not run away, and he took that as a good sign.

Her posture and pheromones said that she did not mind the idea of belonging to him.

Her back straightened and Germany's gaze zeroed in on the way more of her neck was bared for him. She turned her head away shyly.

Germany rumbled in approval at the display of true submission. So she would accept him? That was good. He thought that was good. Her blue eyes peeked up at him from underneath her lashes. As if she were waiting for his approval.

Would he deny her? Or would he accept?

He thought for a moment. Did he approve of her? Something in him tightened, a nearly feral need to possess the willing Omega within arm's reach. Yes. He approved. He did not need to look at other options for an alliance for his people. The United States had produced an Omega, and he was not going to permit someone to take her from him.

It was a rare opportunity, and that is how he would explain it should his government bother to ask him.

Experimentally, he leaned in closer to her exposed neck. He found that he greatly enjoyed the way she shivered in response to his closeness. A soft whine escaped from her throat. He could practically feel her excitement, even as the heady scent of her pheromones flooded his nose.

His hand reached for her, but she was already moving toward him at the same time. Lust and mingling aromas of sex around them spurred the animalistic pair into a higher haze of passion. America ground her hips against his when he pulled her flush with his body. A low growl of appreciation tore from his throat as he leaned down and captured her lips.

They were tumbling to the forest floor. Hands moved in hurried near-unison as the removed the barriers that separated their heated flesh. His teeth nipped at her exposed neck and she whined for him. In a nearly wanton fashion as she expressed her need.

Soon it was their reciprocating sounds of desire and ecstasy filled the air, casting a blanket of euphoric bliss in its wake.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Okay, my dear Readers!**_

_**More Germerica! I will do one with the meeting per request. This one is just for laughs, though.**_

_**I own nothing. Rated M. **_

OoOoOo

"She is always late!" Germany groused as he stomped over to the window and back.

"Not always," Prussia interjected calmly. His crimson eyes glanced up once more from his paper. It did not bother him in the slightest if America showed up five to ten minutes late. It meant he was able to finish his coffee before she came.

And, he would still bill West for his time. So, therefore, Prussia adored meetings between his dear brother and the nation he had once trained.

Also, it was vastly entertaining to watch Germany turn molted whenever America did not arrive precisely on time.

"Why must you always defend her?" The blonde male snapped with irritation as he adjusted his tie.

Prussia noted that he had done that eight times in the last three minutes. Hm. Prussia slowly closed the newspaper, and stared at Germany.

"Why shouldn't I defend her? America will be here."

"Late! Again!"

"You are missing the point," Prussia said with open amusement.

"What point?" Germany asked, in spite of himself. He knew that sometimes Prussia had bizarre ideas about life. Yet, he always found himself wondering what went on in his brother's head.

"That she always shows up," The older male stated bluntly. Prussia shrugged as he flicked his gaze to the clock and back.

Well, America must have been running behind schedule. She was a whole _fifteen_ minutes this time. No wonder Germany's panties were in a bunch. Internally the former nation snickered to himself.

"It doesn't matter if it's snowing outside, a hurricane, or even one O'clock in the morning," The Albino male said with a large smile. "America always comes."

"Ja, ja," Germany replied, nodding his head thoughtfully. He could recall the numerous times she'd burst through the door, disheveled and dropping reports all over the place. Likely because she had procrastinated, the mere thought of such a thing caused the blonde to frown.

He would have to send America more organizational e-mails.

Prussia sighed, seeing that his brother still did not comprehend what he was hinting.

"Because it's_ you_." He said slowly.

"What?"

"America always shows up because _you_ call her." Prussia hinted once more, a bit more obviously this time.

"Come now," Germany said with a slight tint to his cheeks. "That is absurd."

"Oh really?" The paler man arched a brow nearly to his hairline. "I can think of eight times alone, that she would have blown off a meeting had it not been held by you."

The blonde nation stilled, his blue eyes were inscrutable as he stared at his brother. Then his gaze moved to the floor as it narrowed.

"You must be mistaken."

"I bet," Prussia said, beginning to cackle madly, "That you could make up the lamest excuse, and America would still show up."

"Why would I ever make such a bet? This is childish and asinine."

"Becau-"

"Dudes!" America's voice boomed through as the door slammed open. Her blonde hair was in disarray and there was a bit of sweat around her temples. Yet, she had her same trade-mark 'American' smile.

Germany flushed, Prussia snickered.

"Uh..." America said elloquently, "Did I miss something?"

"You are late!" Germany roared as he pointed a finger at her.

America pouted. "But it was bad weather and-"

"Nien! I will hear no more of your excuses." The European nation continued as he went to his chair. "Now sit, we have a great deal of work to go over."

The female nation paused, waved at Prussia with a sheepish grin, and proceeded to sit. Germany grabbed the papers in front of him and shuffled the most important documents to the top.

"Now, concerning the last-"

"Could i have a cup of coffee first?" She asked sweetly.

Prussia watched as his brother's jaw clicked closed, and pink dusted Germany's cheeks. He looked at America, who was staring at him with a hopeful expression that could make adorable puppies envious.

"If you had been here on time," Germany began, after clearing his throat and averting his eyes.

"Oh come on Germany," America replied in a louder voice. "Bitte. Or Please or... whatever. I _need_ caffeine right now."

The Albino nation glanced to see his brother trying to fight with himself over telling America no. Now, Prussia had witnessed many times how well Germany could deny anyone. Yet, he also saw the tick in the blonde haired man's jaw.

Oh, he was going to agree? Red eyes widened fractionally.

"...I suppose one cup of coffee couldn't hurt." Germany said in a nearly monotone fashion.

"Ah Germany," America said with a soft laugh. "You're the best."

Prussia noticed the way his brother flushed to the roots of his hair.

It gave him an idea.

OoOoOo

He waited patiently. Because, he was so freaking awesome, and also due to the fact he had to be certain not to wake up West.

Sneaking into the other male's room was easy. The floors were clean, and nothing was likely to trip him. However, he had to be completely silent.

_'I'll show that stubborn boy,_' Prussia thought with a long, but quiet, and put-upon sigh. The things he did because he was so awesome.

And, for love. Or some other such bull-crap.

He grabbed Germany's phone. It was lying there innocently and just begging to be tampered with. He smoothed a pale hand over the device, with a wicked gleam to his gaze.

If Germany refused to believe the Awesome Prussia, there were consequences for being so foolish.

OoOoOo

It was three in the morning. The birds had not even begun their chirping and merry tunes. When, all of a sudden, the front door to his house bust open louder than a cannon being shot outside his window. Germany was out of bed in the space of a second, moving toward his clothes and some sort of weapon.

"Germany!" A feminine voice hollered from below.

"Germany! Speak to me buddy!" America continued.

Said male nation stilled, and gave a confused look to his bedroom door. Then he settled down a bit and made a face. Something must have been wrong for her to burst into his home at this hour.

"America?" He called out, it was questioning though he knew for certain it was her. Perhaps it was a ingrained response.

The fact remained that the decibel of her voice was distinctive.

There was the sound of fast and heavy foot falls up the steps. Germany blinked, and a second later America was right in front of him. A new hole had been made in his dry wall, thanks to the handle of the door being launched with America's strength.

Yes... this was... quite a way to wake up.

Germany scowled.

America grabbed his shoulders, her face inches from his. He felt himself flush at the proximity, but said nothing else as he noticed that something was obviously wrong.

"I just heard," she said with tears in her eyes.

"Heard?" He questioned, feeling alarm course through his veins. Had there been news he was unaware of?

America sucked in a breath, and let it go quickly.

"You've been invaded!"

"WHAT?" He asked, as loudly as possible. Germany's mind scrambled over what to do. He would have to get in touch with his generals. How had he not been notified? Who was this-

"By weeds."

The world shrank back into focus, and his jaw slackened as he stared at a very serious looking America.

"...what?"

"But don't you worry," she said with a thumbs up and a smile. "'Cause the hero is here! I'll save you."

She then proceeded to nearly crush him into her chest. Germany could only blink and force himself to breathe as his face was nestled in her bosom. He could feel her stroking the back of his head, and his brain felt as if it were overheating.

He was... her breasts were...

"The hero is here," she crooned at him sweetly.

Decency demanded that he force her to let him go, and then ask what the hell she was taking. However, he could not make his traitorous body move. His thoughts sputtered before fully forming and Germany simply allowed America to continue.

Well, for a few seconds at least.

Until he heard other footfalls, and America released him, turning toward the newcomer.

Prussia rounded the corner in full fatigues. "You've come!" He said with the absolute authority back in his voice. The one Germany and America both remembered rather well.

Germany was gob smacked.

"Yes, Sir!" America said as she snapped to attention. The pair exchanged information quickly. The blonde male rubbed his eyes as the star-spangled nation ducked into his bathroom, and came out in full uniform.

A stack of papers were shoved in his arms. Germany barely kept them from falling. 'The War on Weeds' was blazoned across the top.

His blue eyes scanned it quickly and looked back up.

"Ready to take on the 'enemy'?" America asked, with steely determination.

She pumped a fist in the air, Prussia nodded with an awesomely "badass" look.

Germany stared at them as if they were insane.

Which, they probably were.

"Good. We haven't a moment to lose!" Prussia declared.

"I understand. This is a very severe situation." The female nation replied.

"Damn right!" Prussia growled. "As it stands, we are being overrun in both the front and the back."

Germany could only watch as Prussia and America proceeded out his door. Looking for all the world as if they were about to head into battle. His ears could only catch snippets of the conversation.

About the 'enemy'. Supply lines, and their 'secret weapon'.

His blue eyes narrowed and then widened as he looked down at the papers again.

"What is going on?" Germany asked the empty room.

OoOoOo

He took his time showering, and even made himself breakfast.

Just so that he would have the strength to deal with whatever disaster Prussia and America would unleash upon the unsuspecting populace. Germany wanted to believe that it would not be so bad. After all, it did not take much to realize that Prussia was behind this.

He had seen the text messages right before his shower.

Germany was plenty content to let them be fools together.

Then he remembered what other things happened when America and Prussia worked in tandem.

It was enough to make him quickly leave the untouched food, and go searching for them. He did not find them in any room in the house, nor in the garage. A feeling of dread pooled in his stomach.

Germany tried to walk out his front door, only to find America with a flamethrower strapped to her back.

"What is this?" He exclaimed with wide eyes.

The female nation beamed at him.

"Prussia and I agreed that it was tactically sound to flush them out of the flower beds."

Not the flower beds! He had planted all of those just three years ago. He moved stiffly out of the door, and noticed that the blooms of various colors were untouched. Germany nearly breathed a sigh of relief.

America nearly materialized beside him, fiddling with the controls on her flamethrower. The female nation glanced down at the flower beds.

"Those are really pretty."

"Thank you," He replied sincerely.

"You like pink," she commented off handedly. "Really like pink."

Germany flushed to the roots of his hair.

"Pink is a perfectly acceptable color for a garden."

"I never said it wasn't," she pointed out. "It was just surprising is all."

His blue eyes turned slightly hard.

"Why is it surprising?"

America was about to answer, when an arch of flame billowed past them. Germany nearly jumped out of his skin. The star-spangled nation appeared unfazed by their near brush with death.

"I should totally mention one little thing," America said with a giggle.

Germany turned toward her, slightly caught up in the lyrical sound of her laughter.

"I asked Italy to help me with the 'war effort'." She informed him with a Cheshire-cat grin.

The stoic nation felt his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. Oh no. Italy would kill himself if she gave him a flame thrower! He was about to demand to know where Italy was, when another blast of heat from behind him signaled that he had better get out of the way.

HIs dark blue eyes shifted as he leapt as if his life depended on it. Which it did. He noticed that instead of red hair, it was brown hair.

Mien Gott... she didn't...

"Southern Italy," America said happily. Clearly proud of herself.

Southern Italy gave him a leering and evil smile. HIs fingers squeezed and suddenly fire erupted all over Germany's prized flowers.

"Hey potato bastard!" Southern Italy said happily. "Suck my balls."

America laughed so hard she nearly fell over.

"Isn't he epic!"

Germany thought he was something alright. Heaven help Southern Italy if Germany survived America 'helping' him.

OoOoOo

Prussia had dragged Germany off, so that he would not destroy Southern Italy. Who had taken an unholy delight in lighting fire to everything he could, as he called Germany all sorts of names. America praised Southern Italy for his 'zeal' in battle.

Prussia agreed with America.

Germany wanted to get away from them all. He even attempted to sneak out through his back door. He made it halfway across the yard before-

"Get down!" America screamed from behind him.

And, Germany, failed to get out of the way in time. She tackled him to the ground. A spray bottle in hand. Her blue eyes were narrowed and hard behind Texas.

"You fool!" She shouted at him. "You could have died!"

His darker blue eyes widened in horrified shock. He looked around, and at America who was watching something to their left.

"Shit," she swore. "We're surrounded."

Germany's concern melted into near fury. He could see that they were in fact, in the center of a ring of thick and bristled weeds. The one year he had not taken the proper gardening regime because affairs of his country came first, was the year he got 'invaded'.

He was going to drown Prussia the next time he saw him. If his meddlesome brother hadn't interfered with his phone...

Germany groaned.

America's gaze widened.

"You've been wounded!" She declared and dropped the spray bottle to grasp at Germany's shirt.

"Stop," He snapped out, as his cheeks flushed.

America's warm hands were under the fabric of his shirt, as if she had not heard him. "Easy Soldier," she commanded with a bit of calmness to her words. "I'm a trained medic."

He stilled, despite not truly wanting to as her smooth hands explored the expanse of his chest. Germany swallowed heavily.

"Now," she purred out in a voice that spoke of sin and sensuality. "Where does it hurt?"

The blonde male nation could only blink as America leaned closer. He had never noticed the way her blue eyes looked so fascinating before.

Then he remembered that she had tackled him to the ground because she believed he was actually being invaded by weeds.

Germany's features pitched to those of annoyance.

"This does not seem professional at all."

The star-spangled nation pouted.

"Okay, if you do not want to cooperate, I will have to get an M.P." She chided with all seriousness.

"Wait, what?"

"Southern Italy!" America called out loudly.

"Nein!" Germany denied quickly.

The little devil showed up anyway, another look of evil delight on his features as he dangled cuffs in one hand and pepper spray in the other.

"You cannot do this," Germany snapped out.

"Prussia said I could." America said with soft shrug. "It would have been a lot more fun if you had just let me... _check your wounds."_

Germany's mind sputtered as America winked at him.

OoOoOo

America was on 'patrol' with Prussia the next day. Which translated into America having set up some artillery, small caliber by comparison, for target practice.

Prussia had already taken his turn, and America was back with her favorite weapon.

"Think we should tell him?" Prussia asked casually.

"Tell him what?"

"That you don't really believe Germany is being invaded by weeds."

America gave a wide grin.

"Nah," She said as she stared down the scope of a rifle. "I don't want to spoil anything. This is the most fun I've had in ages."

Crimson eyes watched her intently, before nodding in acceptance. This was ridiculously fun for Prussia as well. Sometimes West could be so... boring. America would certainly liven things up around here.

Plus, she brought lots of fun toys for him to shoot.

Prussia enjoyed that part as well.

"Won't you get in trouble for this?"

"Eh. I'll probably get yelled at." America said with a mutter. Slowly she squeezed the trigger and watched with satisfaction as another weed clump burst into smithereens.

There was something almost cathartic about target practice. Really, there was.

Her blue eyes glanced up to Prussia as she took her hands away from the gun.

"I've been yelled at before," she pointed out with delight sparkling in her gaze.

Prussia shook his head in amusement.

"Won't your people be upset that you brought 300,000 gallons of weed killer?" He asked with a certain level of seriousness.

America laughed.

"Look dude, my people want to work. This provided some jobs. They don't care what I do with it as long as they get paid." She pointed out, "Besides I billed it to the U.N. for 'humanitarian' purposes."

"How on earth did you get away with that?" He asked, flabbergasted.

"Simple," America said with a knowing grin. "I charged it to France's account."

"You didn't."

"Oh, I did. But more to the point, I filed it under something that will get his attention."

"Which is?"

"Pregnancy tests." The female nation said with a wickedly amused look. "From England."

Prussia burst out laughing.

"You are nearly as awesome as me!" He declared boldly.

"Easy there tiger," America said as she playfully swatted at his arm. "I'm going to be dating your brother."

"Speaking of which, here he comes now."

And, indeed, Germany was coming out the back door with a serious expression on his already stern face. A pair of cuffs dangled uselessly from one arm, and Southern Italy was nowhere to be seen. Well, that was expected to happen at some point.

America laughed quietly.

"Quick, make it look like you are giving me a status report." She said, as she upholstered another gun and offered it to him. Unloaded. No rounds in the chamber, safety on.

Prussia gazed at her long and hard, as he took the gun. She handed him a few clips, filled to the brim with ammunition.

"Waaay too awesome. I might start to get jealous."

America gave her best flirtatious and Hollywood smile.

"Prussia, darling. Eat your heart out."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Okay, sorry to do this. Someone wanted a meeting with America getting naughty with Germany. However, this took a strange twist in my mind. So... yeah.**_

_**I own nothing. Rated M. **_

**OoOoOo**

There wasn't much to say. America was at a meeting, privately, with Germany.

A nation she had a massive crush on. Really. She'd liked him for decades, but the guy was... dense. She tried flirting with him, but it produced nothing except irritation from the European nation.

Until finally, her attempts at subtly were met with nothing but icy stares.

So she decided to 'go for gold'. Throw caution to the wind.

America, land of the free... home of the brave... was going to simply seduce him. By blatantly throwing herself at him

Like now.

Her hands were on his thighs, and she was standing between his legs while Germany started at her with open mouth shock. She moved to her knees, with a small smile of triumph in place.

"America, what are you doing?"

She smiled at him, a look smoldered in her eyes that suggested he should just let her continue.

"Taking a break."

"Near my...?"

"Oh yes." She murmured as she started reaching to unbuckle his pants.

"Stop! This is highly inappropriate and I-"

"Germany," America said patiently as her hand palmed over his semi-erect length. "I'm going to suck it. Not bite it off. Would you calm the fuck down?"

He flushed to the roots of his hair, his eyes nearly impossibly wide as he swallowed quickly.

"W-what?"

She rolled her blue eyes, but grinned none the less. A saucy and seductive look on her face. "Which part did you understand? Because the concept is _incredibly_ simple here darlin'."

"Darling?"

"Really? I offer to give you a blow job, and you are questioning the use of an endearment? Seriously dude?"

Germany looked scandalized. "Y-y-you! You cannot...cannot...say such things."

"Can't?" America laughed, continuing to tease the length of him through the cloth that separated them. She could feel it hardening under her caresses. "Then I really shouldn't say something like... I want you?"

He looked so red, that the could have rivaled a cherry. He made an indignant sputtering noise. "That is-"

"Me love you long time?" She quipped in a slightly sultry tone.

The male nation glanced up sharply, his adorably nervous face shifted into an expression of ire.

"Are you making fun of China?"

She blinked, processing what he asked.

"What?" America reared back looking perplexed. "No!" She looked scandalized by the very idea.

He appeared unsure, though his eyes flicked down to her hand and back to her.

"But the -"

She removed her hands from him as if he burned her.

"Oh God, no dude. Just no. That would be horribly insensitive and I... you know what? Never mind. That killed the mood." She said, sighing and disheartened. The female nation moved back to her side of the table, leaving Germany still aroused but untouched.

America sat down with a look of disgruntlement and started shifting the papers around. The female nation seemed settled back into the monotony of going over clauses for their contracts.

"So Article 13.221.12, stating that military response-"

"America? You are not... truly stopping. Are you?" The male nation inquired with a flabbergasted look on his stern features.

She peeked her blue eyes over the top of Texas and stared at him blankly.

"Yeah. Yeah I am."

Germany shifted, trying to ease the arousal that the star-spangled nation had caused. He clenched his teeth and looked away.

"I think perhaps we are being a tad hasty."

"The mood is dead."

"I think that is open to some discussion."

"Oh my gosh. Are you really trying to haggle sex like these freaking peace time contracts?" She stared at him with disbelief.

"I am not haggling." Germany said with a slight cough. His cheeks still bright red. "I just think that you are rushing to a conclusion without involving all parties."

"Hm. Yes, well. It's my mouth. I get to choose."

He opened and closed his mouth several times. Then his dark blue eyes glanced at her with a touch of shyness as well as cunning.

"You said you were taking a 'break'."

"Yes? And?"

"The International law states that all breaks must be at least-"

"You are quoting international law at me, to get me to pleasure you?"

"I wouldn't phrase it like... I'm not trying to force... I-"

America put the palm of her hand under her chin, and rested her elbow on the table. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

"So.. you... what? Want to have sex with me?"

"I never said I didn't."

"You were protesting an awful lot."

He looked down, his hands fisted at his sides, and he seemed highly upset. Her sky blue eyes narrowed in on the fact that he did still seem... nervous. In fact, he only seemed relaxed when she'd been telling him what to do and running ram shod over his ideas... and-

Putting him under her thumb, so to speak. She had an idea.

"But," She said glancing to the left and grinned. "Maybe you're just a naughty, _naughty_ nation. Ja?"

Germany swallowed, his eyes glazed slightly and America noticed he was breathing quicker.

Well, it didn't prove anything, but it was certainly something to go off of.

She gave a slow and measured grin. "Dirty. _Filthy_ even. So when I tell you to do something, you are going to do it. Am I clear?"

He nodded quickly and with considerably more enthusiasm. So, he did respond well to her taking control. Her eyes became half-hooded as America grinned wickedly, before turning the grin into a tempting pout.

"Oh." The star-spangled nation said, realizing what she had missed in her dealings with Germany. "You like to be dominated. Don't you?"

He nodded stiffly.

"Humiliated?" She questioned softly, in a tone that suggested merely curiosity.

Germany's nod was much slower this time. Ah. He looked highly uncomfortable, but dare she say... turned on? Something inside her clenched tightly with want and a sense of understanding. Well, if that is what got Germany turned on...

She could certainly be accommodating.

America hid a smile and gazed at him deeply. Every line of her face appeared to be that of someone in perfect control over the situation. With a touch of raw passion to her words.

"You fucking masochist." She sneered as Texas flashed under the florescent light. It gave her an aura of danger as well as power. "Well, that's not true. Not all subs like pain. But you are just the kind of little bitch that would. Aren't you?"

She noticed that he shivered at her words. So, he was wonderfully responsive to her. Excellent. He watched her with rapt attention. America would be lying if she said she did not enjoy the attention.

And, she loved being worshiped, by people or nations. Watching Germany swallow heavily gave her a deep thrill of excitement.

"Did I say you could look at me? No." Her tone was harsh and unforgiving. He flinched back into his chair more, eyes dropping to the ground instantly. "Better. Now, unbuckle your belt. You damn pansy."

His hands fumbled quickly for his buckle, trying to yank it off with varying amounts of success. America stood up gracefully, walking toward him with a stride that exuded confidence and sexuality.

"You are too damn easy," she hissed at him. Germany flushed even more. America reached out a hand and traced it down his face. "But you're are cute. You little fetish boy."

He leaned into her touch, but America pulled her hand away. She stared at him with an unreadable look. Germany was rather attractive when he was flushed and fumbling around to get his pants open. Everyone had their thing. The one sort of stimulation that really flicked their bic. So to speak. The Star-spangled nation knew she'd found Germany's on switch, and it was time to light up the freaking room.

"Unzip your pants," she demanded. He did so eagerly, the sound of the zipper being undone seemed louder than usual. "Don't move."

He stilled instantly at her tone. The one that dared him to put so much as a fingernail out of line with what America wanted. Germany flushed, highly aroused by how commanding she was. He'd had dreams about this sort of thing. Though he would never admit it. When they had been at war, he had wondered what it would have been like to be captured by the United States.

"Look at you," America sneered as her eyes raked over his arousal. "I haven't really done anything to you, and you're already hard as a rock. How naughty. How _depraved_. Go on. Touch yourself. Put on a show. I'm bored."

His hand trembled, and his dark eyes were wide. Full blown lust and uncertainty stole over his features.

Her blue eyes narrowed, Texas flashed menacingly.

"Are you deaf?" She accentuated the words slowly as she leaned closer to him.

"N-nein," he said softly.

America slapped him lightly across the face. She noticed that a part of him twitched. Interesting. Some pain was alright then. However, rules were rules.

"Listen and listen well," the female nation hissed. "If I give you an order, you fucking do it, perv."

Her hand snaked into his short-cropped hair and fisted, but gently. Her gaze probed his intently. She licked her lips and leaned down to kiss him. It was demanding and carnal. Hot and untamed. It left Germany breathless.

"A-America," he panted, with lust glazed eyes.

"However, little fetish boy," she continued on. "If at any point it becomes to much for you. I give you permission to say 'Red'. Then everything stops. But be sure to say it in English, or else I might not understand."

He gave her a questioning look.

"Without punishment or retribution," America said with a wicked grin. "So tell me Germany, _darlin'_... baby... do you want me to make you see stars and stripes?" She purred as she nipped at his neck harshly.

"_Ja, bitte_."

_"Bitte...?"_

"_Bitte Geliebte!" _The words burst from his throat with a force that had America smiling wolfishly at him.

"Good boy." She praised lightly. "Now, I told you to touch yourself. I will not tolerate disobedience aga-"

There was a loud knocking on the door, just as Germany's hands flew to do America's bidding.

"Oh," she pouted, and winked at Germany. "I guess time's up."

"What?" He asked, looking thunderous.

"Ms. Jones?" Her assistant called through the door. "Your next appointment is here."

Germany's hard length was prominent, as was his fury and embarrassment. America hummed to herself, and grabbed a nearby pen. She scribbled out some digits on it, before handing it to Germany. He took it, looking not nearly as disheveled as she would have liked.

"Put it away for now Darlin'," She drawled. "I have things to see to, but I am free this Thursday night. Bring some restraints." She hinted heavily, before blowing him a kiss and quietly exiting out the door.

She missed the star-struck look of passion that crossed the normally reserved nation's face.


	5. Chapter 5

**I own nothing. I earn nothing from this. Author does not claim ownership to characters/sayings/ ideas herein.**

**Had a request for Germerica Omegaverse again. Baby bug chapter for them to follow. **

**Not sure how... passionate Germans are, culturally speaking. I am assuming very. ;)**

**Enjoy!**

OoOoOo

_Location: Berlin, Germany_

Germany was beyond irritated. In fact, he was quite irate. Not only was the world meeting underway, and the subject was highly important to all of the E.U., but there was a country missing from the today's discussions.

One that should _not_ be missing under any circumstance because she had called and pestered him about said meeting over twenty-three separate times. This nation also had the unfortunate reputation for forgetting about time-zones, which Germany had experienced first-hand.

In short, he was on the war path to scold America.

If he could find her.

He had excused himself as the nations spoke amongst each other, catching up on events that held relevance for multiple countries. It was a touch embarrassing because he was hosting the meeting. Of everyone, he should be there and he was not.

He was hunting the Star-Spangled nation that was not where she should be. England had been of no help, stating that he was not America's keeper. Canada had no idea where his neighbor had run off to, but had offered to check the other end of the building.

Thirty minutes later, and Germany's sharp gaze wandered the known 'hiding' places that errant nations tried to escape from his wrath in.

The commanding nation checked every empty room, the cafeteria -where he had been certain America would have been-, the janitor's closets, and even peeked in to look for feet in the Ladies' rooms. However, not in a sexual predator sort of way, though he was highly embarrassed to even have to look there. He'd found Hungary hiding in there once, when she had not wanted to stay the whole meeting.

Germany had forced Austria to go and retrieve her.

No one spoke of it ever again, and that was for the best.

However, just as he was about to give up and head back down the other hallway, he noticed that his office door was closed. His hands tightened into fists. America would not have been so bold as to hide in his office would she? Then again, it was America. She would. It would be the once place he was the least likely to check.

Clever.

Germany scowled as he headed toward his office door. He could hear someone moving back and forth. Ah ha! Someone was in there.

"America?" He questioned to confirm his theory. "Are you in there?"

The pacing stopped, and then there was a shadow by the door. No one answered, but he could clearly tell that someone was on the other side.

"I can hear you breathing," he bluffed, as he waited for her to come out and explain why she was holding up the meeting.

There came an attempt to poorly disguise her voice.

"It is me, _the Awesome_ one."

He narrowed his eyes. It was utterly obvious that was not, in fact Prussia. He was a little insulted she thought he would not be able to tell the difference.

"I know my brother's voice, America," he half-snarled in irritation.

Another moment of silence reigned, and Germany felt his nose twitch slightly, feeling more flustered than before but not understanding as to why.

"I... I no speak your silly language, German person."

Was... was she attempting French? Because, it sounded remarkably similar to something England had once come up with. What was it called? Monty and the Python? No, that didn't sound right. Either way, it was inconsequential. The meeting had started and he would not be tolerating anymore delays.

"We are speaking English at this moment, and get out of my office." He reminded her testily.

Another bit of silence, before it was broken by a hesitant.

"Pro que?"

"It's 'Por qué ', and you come out of there this instant America!"

There was a nervous shuffling near the door, and a very soft whimper of distress. Instantly, Germany was on high alert, wondering if she was wounded. Germany banged on it again, startled when America whimpered once more.

Something must have been wrong.

There was nothing of importance that he kept here, but he was curious why she was in there. It couldn't have been for secrets, he did not keep them in his office. He did have a medical kit in there. Was she injured?

"Are you well? Open the door."

There was nothing but silence for a moment. Germany was truly growing concerned.

"America? Open the door."

"I want to, don't get me wrong. But, I really can't," the normally exuberant nation hedged with her tone catching. "It would be a bad idea."

Germany narrowed his eyes at the barrier of wood that prevented him from truly assessing the situation. She wanted to, but couldn't. What on Earth had gotten into America? This had better not be some sort of practical joke.

If she ruined his furniture, he would kill her.

"Why?" He growled lowly. "Why can't you open the door."

"Uh...I...," she floundered for a moment, "I'm contagious! Yes! Stay away. I have... herpo-ghonno-reeho-syplis-itis-rex!"

He blinked and glared at the door even more, clearly un-amused and his scent must have given that away, because she made a strangled noise. For a moment, he thought the handled might have jiggled slightly. However, that could have been his imagination.

For some reason he could not name, he was growing more and more agitated by her refusing to open the door. Far beyond what was reasonable.

"That's not a real disease."

She gasped loudly, and overly dramatically in his opinion.

"How dare you?! Do you know what living with this condition is like? For shame on you for mocking the infirm and/or invalid. Shame I say!"

His blue eyes balefully continued to stare. Was she being sincere with him? Truly?

"So, you are saying that you are not physically or mentally strong due to illness?" He deadpanned with a nonplussed expression.

Then, all he had to do was remain silent.

"What? No! Go to hell," America instantly responded, feeling she had been insulted by the European nation. "I am too mentally and physically stro-... er... I mean... yes? Yes. I am."

Then there came some obviously fake coughing. Germany snorted in disbelief. This nation would drive him up the wall, but she was America and they had been through quite a bit together.

"I will not tolerate your lollygagging any longer. You will come out and attend the meeting."

There was a nearly pleading whine that rippled through the door.

"Germany, no. I really can't attend the meeting like this." Her tone waivered briefly, as if she were in pain.

That caught his attention.

"Like what?" He frowned, concerned once more.

"Uh.. nothing?"

He stated lowly.

"America, I am swiftly running out of patience."

"Dude, you never have patience."

He growled at that one.

"See?"

"America!" He snarled, reaching for the handle.

"No!" She shouted back through the door.

"Come out!"

"Never!"

"Come out!"

"I refuse!"

He glowered at her stubbornness.

"Fine! Then I will come in."

He would never usually have acted this way, but before he could rationally think things through, he'd already put his shoulder to the door and started to push.

"Wait, no!" America hollered as she braced the door, keeping him from entering.

"Then come out!" He warned once more.

"No!"

"I have had enough of this you troublesome woman. Start acting like an Alpha!" He all but roared, and to anyone other than America, it might have been a deafening roar. Until she fired back one of her own.

"I'm not an Alpha!"

Germany froze at her shout, staring at the door wide-eyed and slack jawed. Nearly speechless, but not quite. He must have misheard her... but that seemed impossible. His ears were still ringing. Almost painfully.

It quieted between them, and all he could hear was their equally labored breathing.

"What?" He asked softly, for clarification.

There a mewl of distress and then...

"I'm... I'm not an _Alpha_," she admitted very quietly this time. "And, I can't let you in. I also can't come out. Don't you get it? I need to get out of here. Right now."

He heard her words, he did. However, all he could get his mind to focus on was the fact that America said she _wasn't_ an _Alpha_. That... that wasn't possible. He clearly misheard her.

"You're... you're _not_ an Alpha? Is that what you said?" He asked, because he simply had to be certain. His accent deepened in disbelief.

The not-Alpha made a noise of annoyance.

"Yes, would you like me to embroider it on a napkin for you?"

"There is no need to become sarcastic."

"Oh, _pardon_ me. I thought there was every need."

"Enough."

Strangely, she complied. A soft sound of placation uttered from her throat, and it calmed some of his ire. He tilted his head at that, trying to understand. This was bound to be a headache and a veritable truckload of paperwork. As if he could fit all of that into his busy schedule.

"Since when?" Germany, asked, subdued slightly.

"What?"

"Since when have you not been an Alpha? Is this a recent development?" Had it been something America had been working on? One of those top secret research projects? Had it all gone horribly wrong? Was that why she-

"No. Since always."

Ah. Well, there went that theory.

"Really?"

A breath was exhaled from the other side of the door. She started pacing, nervously, as if she could not settle down. A whine built in her throat again, Germany could hear it.

"Yes."

Oh. Well, then that just left one question.

"Why do you need to get out of here?"

A snort of near amusement sounded, as she continued to pace, and he could almost imagine her looking at him through the door. That same lop-sided grin she worn whenever he said something funny was on her face, no doubt. And, her nose would be slightly crinkled as it bloomed into a full smile. Her blue eyes on him.

Germany swallowed, feeling a heavy weight of lust settle in his stomach. She wasn't... an Alpha. That changed something for him, but Germany couldn't place his finger on it just yet.

"I'll give you two guesses. What with me not being an Alpha and all, as to why I would wish to avoid a room full of them."

He flushed to the roots of his hair. Feeling his aggression from earlier roar to life in his veins. Hot and nearly consuming.

"Are you... in heat?" His voice deepened at the question.

She coughed lightly, clearly surprised that he would say it out loud.

"Geez! Yes, dude. I'm... in heat." Her words grew softer and nearly smaller, as if she were embarrassed to admit it.

He had no retort for that, in fact his brain was buzzing and he couldn't quite realize what he was supposed to do. Germany felt torn, should he leave her alone? No. She said she needed to get out of here. He would have to help her. Fumbling, he dug in his pants pocket for his keys.

It seemed surreal as he slid the key into the lock and turned it. It clicked, and he pushed on the handle, noticing that America did not try to stop him again. With little effort, he opened the door, and was hit with a wave of scent. Sweet and slightly more than just the heat. It smelled closer to true arousal.

America stared at him, and his eyes found her instantly. She had moved backward, closer to his desk.

For a moment, they both just blushed and she looked away. America was trembling, and Germany could not take his eyes off of her. That swirling feeling of lust he occasionally felt, for the woman he had believed to be an Alpha, was simmering in his thoughts.

"You didn't block the door," he commented with his voice just a bit deeper than before. Roughened slightly by desire.

America made a soft sound of uncertainty, and a bit of embarrassment.

"Nope!" Her words were cheery, if not a bit shy, before she cleared her throat and appeared contrite. "Well... I... um...I thought you were going to get me out of here. You know, because you are so helpful and all."

That must have been American for a compliment, Germany decided quickly.

"I was," he admitted with his face flushed red and eyes far darken than they had been.

"Was?" She inquired with a breathy voice as she turned her full attention to him once more.

"A-am," he corrected, stuttering briefly, as he tried desperately not to breathe because the scent of her was nearly intoxication.

"Oh." She said.

Was it his imagination, or did she sound vaguely disappointed? Perhaps it was his baser instinct desperately hoping she was.

"Forgive me," he replied, clearing his throat, "But, I was not prepared for the full effect of..."

His gaze raked over her pheromone coated and trembling form. Her body twisted closer to him, clearly not bothered by having him near her during such a vulnerable time. A low rumble of approval worked its way out of his throat.

America titled her head to the side, showing an expanse of smooth skin on her neck. An unconscious gesture of submission. One that was highly alluring and made Germany want to reach out and run his fingers across her skin.

She bit her lip, catching it in-between white teeth as she appeared torn with indecision.

"My heat." She blurted out, looking vaguely sheepish and her blue eyes flickered toward him quickly before looking away.

"Ja. That."

America's brows raised and he watched as she turned a slightly darker shade of red. She gave a gentle laugh. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, as she shyly glance his way once more. Her scent spiked with a subtle flare of excitement and Germany would like to believe that he was the cause.

"This is a little awkward," she said with another laugh, nervous this time.

But still, she did not back away as he ventured further into the room, closing the door behind him. He scrutinized her face, but neither it, nor her scent seemed frightened.

That was... good. Surprising, but a very welcomed surprise. A low rumble built in his chest, almost akin to a purr of approval. America did not seem to notice, but she kept her attention on Germany.

"A little," he admitted graciously, trying not to devour her with his eyes alone. Though the idea was swiftly gaining merit.

She shivered a bit under his simple admission.

"Are you cold?" He asked, noticing that she continued to fidget under his gaze, slowly, he walked forward, allowing her time to move if she wanted to.

Yet, America stayed where she was. Almost as if she were waiting for him to reach her.

"N-no," she responded, looking for all the world as if she were pouting. "I'm not cold."

Some form of Alpha bound amusement reared to life inside of him as he reached out a hand to touch her arm gently. America blinked, flushed, and glanced at him. He was so close that her scent was making him flush as well. So many naughty, and highly-inappropriate thoughts were running through his head.

"That's a pity," he murmured without truly thinking of what he was saying.

"Why?" America asked with a coy grin, "were you hoping to warm me up?"

Germany didn't say anything, he just stared at her and continued to tell himself to breathe. Until he noticed that his pants felt overly tight, and America's blue gaze had strayed downward. He was half-horrified, but she didn't appear to be.

Which was strange, when he thought about the fact that she was in alone with an Alpha. While in heat. No one would come look for them, only Canada was even aware she was missing. Well, Canada and England. They were hardly a threat.

Threat?

Why would he consider other males a threat, unless... he was already forming an attachment to America?

Germany blinked as America leaned into his touch, and a possessive sort of feeling swelled in his chest.

"Germany?" She questioned, with a lustful look in her sky-blue gaze.

He swallowed, his face was red, and he was already attracted to a woman he now realized that he could have. Still, he was a gentleman at heart and would never do anything against her will.

"Tell me to stop." He said with a half-groan to his words.

"What?"

"Tell me to leave. Tell me to stop, if you don't want..." He elaborated as his other hand came up to grab hold of her shoulder.

"Don't want what?" She asked with heat in her words as her scent spiked with even more heat.

He growled at her, his face nearing as she was nearly openly taunting him to continue.

"You know what," he implied heavily, as the heat of their skin mingled nearly perfectly.

America tilted her head to the side and appeared to contemplate his words. Her gaze locked with his momentarily before she dropped it and stepped closer to him. She inhaled his scent, and her eyes fluttered closed.

"I am not going to tell you to leave." She whispered as she leaned up toward his ear. "And I won't tell you to stop."

His control snapped, and he molded their bodies together. He captured her lips in a searing kiss. When he pulled back, her lips were slightly swollen, but she looked extremely happy. His hands reached for her.

"They might hear," she moaned loudly.

Strangely, the thought excited him more. Knowing that the others might hear her cries of delight and pleasure while underneath him. There could be repercussions from this, he granted, but right now the Omega that he'd worked with for so very long -though he had been unaware-, wanted him.

Desperately, by the smell of her, and it was making him ready to puff up with pride at the thought of what they would be doing in just a few short moments.

"Let them."

She nipped at his shoulder playfully, as her hands reached to help him out of his clothing. HIs hands were already under her shirt, working sensitive areas of her flesh.

"The meeting?" She asked nearly demurely.

Germany grinned in a feral manner, as he pushed America toward the desk. She seemed as eager as he was.

"We'll read the notes."

America kissed him fiercely in agreement with his plan.

OoOoOo

America was tucked against Germany's side protectively, the afterglow of mating still lingered on their skin. They had finally moved to the floor after so many couplings that even Germany had lost count. America was... very unpredictable.

He was very pleased with learning that as well. America was his mate now, and he would make arrangements for them to get back to his home, as well as provide her the needed nesting materials, as soon... as he figured out... where his pants were.

Behind the bookcase, perhaps?

However, one detail still bothered Germany.

"Why did you hide in my office?"

"Hm?" America moaned sleepily.

"Why did you hide in my office? You said you had to leave here. Why not leave while you had the time?"

A soft and slightly mischievous smile worked its way on top her face, as on blue eyes opened to look at him.

"Because I knew you'd find me in here if I waited long enough."

Germany's own eyes widened in surprise.

"What?"

"Germany, darling," America drawled lightly as she moved to place a kiss upon his exposed chest. "You don't really think that after hiding the fact that I am Omega for centuries, that I just forgot I was about to go into heat, did you? Or of all the places I could have gone, I ended up in your office?"

He appeared dazed, nearly gob smacked. "You planned this?" He asked, with his eyebrows nearly into his hairline.

She grinned at him playfully, as she strummed her fingers along his arm.

"You really didn't figure that out?" America asked sultry.

Germany blinked and glanced at the ceiling.

"What if I had helped you leave instead?"

She appeared thoughtful.

"I would have resisted going."

"Really?"

"Oh totally. I'm in heat, not incapable of fighting back. But, I think this turned out really well. Don't you. Besides, we could keep talking about how I planned this," she alluded with an impish glimmer in her eyes, "or I could let you tie me up with your necktie on the desk?"

She tilted her head toward his desk and waggled her eyebrows at him in open invitation.

His blue eyes gazed into hers, and he thought it over. Honestly, he did. There would be plenty of time to ask her why she planned this.

Later.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Author owns nothing. Gets nothing for this, except some praise :D_**

_For Ceylon85 Can_****_I request that you would write a story about the cardverse or cardtalia. It would be interesting to see Germany as the king of hearts as depicted in the canon arte stella with Fem!america as the jack of spades._

**_Sure! And, happy birthday. :D_**

**_I own nothing. You know that already. Rated M-ish. _**

OoOoOo

The Kingdom of Hearts was rich in beauty, culture, and a festive sort of atmosphere that truly showed its abounding affectionate nature. The rolling and lush green hillsides that surrounded the castle, were stated to be amongst the most beautiful in the world. The people agree. No matter the suit, they adored the lush fields filled to the brim with sweet fruits, robust vegetables, and nuts rich in delicious oils.

Though its King was far more passionate in the realms of staunch protection and the need to seek perfection from his subjects. Yet, they flourished under their King's strong guidance, and the praise they gave was often said sincerely.

There was some doubt over him, however, not of his fault.

He was a young King -by certain standards-, that gave some of the older people pause, though he was never cruel. It was difficult for his court to get a proper read on what the man was thinking. The brunt of his focus was always upon the affairs at hand, the latest squabbles and the newest missives for consideration.

Yet, he was lofted as being the most level headed ruler since the founding of their great Kingdom.

OoOoOo

King Ludwig, Ruler of Hearts, knew that something was wrong. The Spades had been present only three hours, and after dining, it was time for the merriment.

A celebration of a chance.

His dark blue eyes scanned the court, feeling dismay and irritation lace his thoughts tightly. His Jack... was missing. Again. King Ludwig attempted not to show how irate he was over the disappearance of such a high level, for the King and Queen of Spade -as well as the entirety of their court- were being granted the chance to visit the Heart Kingdom for the first time since a rather bloody dispute.

It was to broker a peace between their two Kingdoms that had long been denied. Ludwig hoped to prevent further bloodshed from ever becoming necessary.

He was drew to a nearly secluded section of the Royal gardens. His ire twitched even more. If his Jack was up to something indecent, again, he would have to have a very firm reprimand ready for-

The King came to a dead halt in his tracks. His dark blue eyes gazed upon his wayward Jack... and a woman he had never seen before.

Only the faint strings of a melody could be heard from inside the hall. Yet, the stars above them shone in perfect combination with the torchlight. Some of which, were magically lit, and Ludwig had never truly appreciated the light they cast, so much as he did in this moment.

The moment that the black and blue of a Spade code of dress, signifying a member of the court, spun around the slim figure of a blonde woman that stole his breath away. Her dress was more common, than some others he had glimpsed, as she flushed slightly. Ludwig could only watch as she gestured between Feliciano and herself.

The faint strings of music grew faster, but no louder. Their hands clasped, and he admired the way the Spade was boldly splayed on the bodice of her gown. The light and royal blues blended to enhance her beautiful eyes.

Ludwig stared hard at how her gloved hands intertwined with the Jack of Hearts. Then, they were moving in a familiar pattern.

Dancing. Alone. In the Garden.

The woman laughed merrily, dancing about with his Jack. The King of hearts could not believe what he was seeing. Red and Blue twirled about merrily. Her eyes sparkled like the color of her kingdom. Feliciano struggled to keep up with her, but they were a match, in some respects.

A scarlet ribbon, from Feliciano's hat, brushed briefly against the azure ribbon in her golden hair. It seemed rather innocent to the King of Hearts, but part of his stomach clenched in bitter jealousy.

It was only made worse by the sound of her voice.

"Come on!" She urged as she changed their hands around and they moved about the clearing even faster.

In the blur of movement, The King of Hearts caught a glimpse of the pistol on her side. The woman had come armed...

A Jack.

His dark blue eyes blinked in surprise and a flicker of mistrust wormed in his thoughts. However, he doubted that she intended to kill Feliciano. They were far too close to the main hall, and there were still guards all about.

Yet, what did it say about her Kingdom, that they permitted the Jack -their enforcer- so far from the King and Queen? A shiver went through Ludwig. Perhaps they were more powerful than he first believed.

His gaze traced over her happy face, the glasses that were clearly marked with the emblem of Spade, and the bit of hair that seemed to stick straight up with her turning in circles.

"I do not know if I-?"

"Trust me!" The Spade Jack said happily, and there was a soft seriousness in her words. As if she truly would keep him from harm. Ludwig, despite all his years in court and command, nearly believed that she would keep him safe as well.

Feliciano obviously did, for he clasped her hands and they spun around until they were almost a blur of mixed colors. Only the echoes of their merriment disturbed the scene, and even that was strangely endearing. They trampled over some of the tender stalks of grass, but did not appear to mind very much.

"Amelia!" Feliciano cried out, his voice nearly quaking with excitement and child-like joy.

She must have taken that as a plea to stop. They gradually slowed and both the Jacks looked vaguely dizzy as they swayed.

"See?" The blonde woman started with mischief sparkling in her blue eyes. "I told ya, you could trust me."

The pair dissolved into a fit of giggling as they fell upon the earth, chattering animatedly with each other about court life. Nothing pertinent, The King knew that they were both aware of what might happen should they leak information. And, their loyalty was above question. One did not become a Jack by treachery.

Amelia... the Spadian Jack snorted behind her hand in laughter as Feliciano told a joke that was usually not mentioned in the presence of ladies. The Spade did not appear to mind at all. Her blue eyes glinted with amusement and she told a few of her own.

Ones that even had the King of Hearts, flushing to the tips of his ears.

My, they truly had some... inventive jokes in Spade.

He stayed there, partially concealed by the hedges that prevented the majority of the garden from being seen by prying eyes, as the two Jacks chatted. For he was unable to force himself to move away.

Then the Spade Jack stiffened and glanced over her shoulder, to the eyes of the King of Hearts.

His heart ached in the sweetest form of torture, when the female Jack noticed him. Her features slackened in disbelief and embarrassment, as she paled. Amelia nudged Feliciano a little harder than needed.

Two pairs of eyes stared at him.

"Oh shit," she muttered eloquently, "we got caught."

Then she slapped her hand over her mouth and flushed.

"Oh shit!" She said louder this time. "I'm not supposed to say 'shit' in front of the King."

It was that statement, or perhaps how earnest she sounded, that caused Lugwig's lips to twitch into a smile. Something that caused his Jack to gape in open mouthed shock.

"No," A voice stated in a soft and calm manner from behind them all while still radiating immense disapproval. "You should not say that."

The Spade jack gave a nervous laugh and shuffled closer to the person behind Ludwig. The blonde ruler who turned to see the King of Spades standing behind him. Ah. He had been too wrapped up in his musings to hear the approach of the other.

Perhaps it was a very good thing that they were speaking of peace this night.

"Uh..." The Spade started with a wide grin. "My sincerest apologies, your highness."

She curtsied to her king and then to Ludwig, who found the gesture rather endearing. Her gaze only dared to dart to his face once she had risen.

Ludwig, a proud and noble King glimpsed the furious glare in the King of Spades eyes.

"Think nothing of it." He replied in a calm tone, and waved the matter away as if it were nothing.

A soft blush stole over her cheeks, and Ludwig felt his heart pause in his chest, as if it too wanted to witness her a moment longer.

OoOoOo

The negotiation for the peace between their Kingdoms did not go as smoothly as planned. Ludwig had one new condition.

It displeased the other.

"What do you want?" King Matthew snarled lowly as the queen of spades moved closer toward him.

Dark blue eyes glinted dangerously, having gone this far, he would not back down now. HE was willing to compromise in other areas. This one, however, was not negotiable.

"I want your Jack." He stated flatly, with complete seriousness.

"You want _Amelia?"_ The Spadian King reared back, staring at Ludwig, as if he were insane.

There was, perhaps, some merit in that thought. However, he was too far gone now.

"Ja." He replied evenly, unflinching as the heavy stare of the King and Queen were leveled on him.

"Absolutely not!" The Queen half-roared across the space between them. The voice carried well and caused a pane of glass to crack thirty feet from them.

Cold eyes answered the challenge set to the Heart King by the Queen of another land.

"Then you would risk war?"

He asked it deliberately, to remind them of what was at stake. What they both hoped to avoid, no matter what their advisors said to the contrary. It was all a series of bluffs and attempting to stay in the balance of power. Or have it tipped in your favor.

The few hours since the garden incident had afforded him the chance to learn more about the Jack of Spades. She was, by far, more powerful than he had been informed of. Though the King and Queen were fierce in their own rights.

Both would have caused him to step lightly, where he trod now.

"The Jack, Amelia, she is my sister." The ruler of Spades interjected with a furious look in his gaze. "I will not see her sullied!"

"I am unmarried." The insinuation was coupled with a honest statement.

Gasps echoed round. Feliciano even startled at the statement.

"You would... seek her hand in marriage?"

"'Seek' implies asking. I feel as if this is a wonderful time to... negotiate." He replied with utmost seriousness in his voice.

It even shook the Spadian Queen to her core. The nearly deadly glint in his eyes. The one of a man that would forsake all for the most precious, if not most often illusive, thing in the world. The chance or promise of love.

Slowly, almost too slowly, the King of Spades nodded his head, a warning clear in the way he offered his hand. He was rather unhappy with the turn of events, the King of Hearts could easily see it.

"Very well," The ruler of Spades acquiesced with a soft bit of menace to his words. "Let us become brothers by marriage. Other terms shall need_ lengthy_ consideration."

Ludwig took the proffered hand and shook it. The stared at each other as two hungry snakes ready to devour another at a given moment. Words as sharp as any knife.

Such was politics.

"Gladly. I shall send for a scribe." The King of Hearts replied with a neutral tone.

"I shall..." the Spade Queen drifted off for a moment with glassy eyes dulled by shock, "inform Amelia."

The blue King grinned in a feral manner at that.

"Yes, tell her the happy news."


	7. Chapter 7

**_Author owns nothing. Gets nothing for this, except some praise :D _**

**_Be advised, I claim no right to ideas/characters/ ect contained herein. I do not claim responsibility for Hetalia, or any affiliated licensed ideas. Yadda yadda. _**

**_Based off idea or story where everyone has their soulmate's first words on their body. _**

**_I own nothing. Rated M. Will be in 2 parts. _**

OoOoOo

If there ever was a time where Ludwig did not want to be late, it was when he needed to be somewhere. Anywhere, really. He thought that punctuality was a step toward efficiency perfection.

He adjusted his tie, and the cuffs of his suit. It was then that his eyes spied the same familiar 'birthmark' that he had seen all of his life. Briefly, with a touch of longing combined with fondness, he brushed his thumb over the patch of skin that held the words.

'_Are you alright?'_

It was a common expression, but the factor that changed the everyday question was that it was in English. He had studied the language for nearly seven years. So that he would be fluent when he courted with his soul mate.

Possibly, they were English. Or even from New Zealand. They could have been Canadian, though he knew they often spoke some French. Though he thought about it, he could not picture what they would look like. It was entirely unknown.

Ludwig had spent many years wondering just what his other half was like. Obviously they were willing to help him, and that left him feeling a touch more secure than his dear brother's. Poor Gilbert's arm simply read _'Oh no, not you_.'

Which had been a source of endless amusement and mirth for his odd brother. Who had claimed that his soul mate had been overwhelmed upon the mere sight of his awesomeness. Elise, a soft spoken woman from the principality of Lichtenstein, described it much differently.

Ludwig was inclined to believe his now dear sister-in-law.

He wondered, if perhaps, he would have a similar soul mate to Gilbert's. Someone quiet and gentle, like a spring breeze? When he met his other half, would they enjoy the same measures of refinements that he did? Would they be able to handle his dear brother?

The man he had become roused himself, and allowed the fondness to slip from his eyes. He had spent over two decades in wait for the love of his life. He could continue to wait with steadfast determination. They too, must be just as eager to see him.

And, one day, they would be together. He simply had to be patient.

He brushed off his suit one more time, and checked his reflection. His hand went to his hair to smooth an out-of-place hair down. He would not tolerate looking like a disheveled mess on his way to the office.

OoOoOo

He did not live far, so walking was something he always enjoyed doing until colder weather would no longer permit it. However, today, only the first notes of crisp and cool air lingered on the breeze.

Ludwig was minding his own business, reading to arrive at the office a half hour early, as he usually did. He was unaware that today, the world would change for him, before his very eyes. Just as he was passing the local cafe, the wheels had already been set into motion.

The scalding hot beverage landed on him, apropos of nothing. Ludwig let out a surprised and vaguely pained grunt, as he quickly wiped at his neck and chest.

"Are you alright?!" A feminine voice questioned with equal measures of fright and concern. "I am so sorry!"

He was upset, and stunned still, so he glowered with anger as he turned toward the miscreant that had caused this disaster. Which had now left him with no time to return home and change.

"Hold on, let me get some napkins," the woman said, as she dropped the now empty cup to the ground and rushed back inside. Ludwig caught the a tail glimpse of her blue jeans and green jacket. She was blonde, but that did not distract him from the fact that he now smelled of coffee and some sweet syrup.

The German national doubted that it had done any lasting damage, but he would still take the woman to task for splashing a hot liquid on him. He muttered curses under his breath as she reappeared with far too many napkins and began vigorously trying to rub him down.

"Here, hold still," she said as she succeeded in rubbing the stain further into the fabric. "Oh no, I think I made it worse."

She had.

The woman chuckled uneasily, and blinked up at him for a moment.

"I'll pay for the dry cleaning," she rambled, before going back to cleaning him up.

Due to his nature, and the fact she was clearly attempting to make amends, he chose to wait until she was nearly finished before saying anything. He could have chosen to push her away, but he did not want to cause an incident. He was embarrassed enough.

Though he did indulge in giving her a heavy stare of disapproval.

"There... it's... sort of, better!"

The blonde woman, with bright blue eyes glanced up at him with a relieved expression. Her lips pulled into a wide grin as she clutched the soiled napkins in one hand. Ludwig took a moment to register that she was actually a little pretty as she adjusted her glasses.

Some of the coffee must have splashed back on her, for she had a lock of hair sticking up, and out of place.

His hand twitched to fix it.

"_Mein Anzug ist ruiniert_." He said crisply, not wasting any more time. He would now only be fifteen minutes early to work at this rate.

The napkins dropped from her hand. The woman's mouth gaped slightly as her eyes widened. She closed her mouth and swallowed quickly.

"What...what did you just say?" She asked suddenly far more quietly, and her voice was a touch high on the end notes.

"_Mein Anzug ist ruiniert._" Ludwig stated again, growing slightly more annoyed. If the American had come all the way to his lands, she could -hopefully- understand him. He could switch to English, but he was a tad cross at the moment.

Her blue eyes dropped to her wrist, and she pulled back the sleeve of her jacket. She started mumbling under her breath.

"Mein...Anzug...ist... ruiniert."

He noted two things. One, her accent was atrocious. And, two, that she was staring at her soul mate tattoo while repeating his words.

That could only mean...

_'Are you alright?'_ Those had been the first words he heard from her.

Which meant...

Ludwig froze. His irritation and anger at the situation vanished. His own eyes widened as the woman's face sported a near-blinding smile. He was even more surprised when she launched herself at him.

Nearly literally.

The suit was wet and had turned cold after the initial heat had waned. So the feeling as she squished against him, while hugging him tightly, was not entirely pleasant.

"Finally!" She crowed loudly, and he winced as his ear was assaulted "I finally found you! Dude, I have been to Germany _six _times looking for you and-"

Ludwig could feel his heart racing as his mind struggled to catch up with what was occurring. His soul mate was here, and touching him. That was too much. He flushed as she continued to ramble happily.

"-This time in Tokyo-"

Her words became like near static, as he filtered out what was actually going on. He'd met his soul mate this morning, as she assaulted him with hot coffee. No. The woman was clearly a hazard to herself and others!

"-Despite the air cannon, the police were really nice-"

She was nothing like the woman of his dreams. Nothing like the refined and elegant, above all soft spoken, he had pictured. It had happened so quickly, after waiting for so long, that he felt himself being repulsed by the idea of spending his lifetime with the stranger that splashed coffee all over him.

He pulled away from her, and watched as her face furrowed in confusion and concern. Her blonde hair moved slightly as the ends were picked up and played with by the breeze.

"I'm sorry about your clothes. I'll pay for them, " she offered again, growing more worried in appearance. "And, I'm sorry that I hugged you before we were properly introduced. I'm your soul mate and you are mine."

He took another step away from her. Her hand reached for him, as if to keep him from leaving.

"I get that this is sudden, but aren't you happy to see me?"

Ludwig shook his head.

"No." He said, before he could think better of it.

OoOoOo

The cafe owner, watched the American woman, as she came to his shop. For the last few weeks at the same time, everyday -without fail-, she showed up. Amelia, as she had introduced herself, ordered her 'usual', and sat by the window to wait.

She paid for the same thing every time she came. The American did not bother anyone, nor did she speak to anyone. She simply, existed.

Every day, she waited for her soul mate to pass by. The yearning was plain on her face and it was painful to watch. He knew whenever the business man passed, for she would sit straighter and nothing could distract her from watching him.

She'd been rejected.

He and his staff all knew it. They had been there the day it happened. The day that should have been her happiest, turned into something infinitely tragic. They watched as she crumpled outside on the sidewalk, and stared blankly ahead.

He had heard of such a thing happening, but Roderich had always assumed those were stories made up by people wanting to frighten others. Yet, as he watched the woman, he knew they were not just stories anymore.

It was as if he were watching someone die in slow motion. Though, he did not know anything about Amelia, other than her name and that she was American, he pitied her plight. On that day, when he had first seen her, she was simply another tourist. She had been overly bright and perky. Filled to the brim with optimism.

Now, it was nowhere to be found.

She had tried to speak with her soul mate, more than a few times. She had attempted to coax him to speak with her, or to simply spend time with her. Each time had been a touch more desperate than the last.

Until last month, when she had stopped asking. The poor woman was in a holding pattern, it seemed. She did not live and she did not quite die. But, she withered and faded from what she had once been. Then again, who could blame her? Her own soul mate, the lauded and highly sought after love of her life, did not want her.

Roderich grabbed a plate and a made her something to eat. She would be getting ready to leave soon, and he had not seen her eat anything in a while. It was obvious that her other half was not going to be coming for her anytime soon.

OoOoOo

Ludwig was busy at his work, when the telephone rang. He barely had picked it up, when a feeling of dread washed over him.

"Well, I hope you are happy," Gilbert's voice snarled over the phone.

In English, for Amelia had been staying with him and Elise. Elise had taken pity on Ludwig, and sent him updates on Amelia. Which Ludwig had not admitted to looking at his cell several times a day to see how thing were.

Ludwig raised a brow. Elise hadn't mentioned anything that was concerning.

"What do you mean?"

"She's gone." The statement seemed bitter somehow.

There was no doubt who 'she' was. His heart clenched painfully in his chest. As, if protesting the very words or possibility.

"What?"

"You didn't really think she could spend her life pining after you in that cafe, did you? She had to go back." Ludwig could hear the venom dripping off of Gilbert's words. His brother always tried to look out for him, and to do what was best for him.

So, some part of him recognized that this was out of love, that he was taking Ludwig to task.

"Back?" He asked, wanting clarification.

"To America. Where else? She's gone and she isn't coming back." Gilbert said quietly. "You really made a mistake, brother."

Ludwig was... ashamed.

"I...know." He admitted quietly.

He knew that he could have handled the situation better, and done more in hind sight. However, the words of what he would say kept escaping him. She had tried, Amelia, his other half. She had tried diligently to get him to accept that they were a match. Yet, his pride and the parts of him that clutched to his dissipating dreams could not accept her.

Gilbert had been furious with him, and rightly so. Ludwig knew all of that, but he could not... he did not want the woman that was supposed to be his. His brother had offered the American a place to stay, and with a stubborn pride, she had accepted.

At first, she had smiled cockily and said she would give him time to fall in love with her. Somehow, against his will, his lips had quirked into an answering smile.

He knew she sat by the window. He had seen her every day, and oddly enough seeing her gave him comfort. Ludwig had excelled at his work since she came into his life. It should have been easy to take her into his life.

Yet, he'd kept her out. He hadn't truly let her go, for he still took the same route to work every day. He could have rejected her completely, and told her he would never want her, but he... hadn't done that.

He'd only continued to say 'no'. Until she couldn't hold on any longer to a dream that had nothing to feed it.

Ludwig recalled today, as he passed by the coffee shop, bundled up against the chill, the sad way in which she had smiled at him as he walked by. At the time, he had thought she was growing weary of giving him his space.

Now he understood that she was really saying goodbye. The shine to her eyes today, had those been tears?

Strangely, it felt as if he was having difficulty breathing. A cold sweat broke out on his brow, and he felt his hands shake. He felt like he was... panicking.

Why would he be panicking?

Then, as if by a flash of lightening, it took him by complete surprise to realize that somewhere along the way, his heart had gotten lost in those deep blue eyes. The gentle smiles of the American woman, who had been waiting for him to come to his senses.

The phone, which he had been holding, clattered to the floor, and he realized he was a damned fool.

He was in love with the woman that was letting him go.

OoOoOo

America is loud and vast. It s endless and yet overcrowded at the same time with so much going on that it makes his head hurt just to contemplate it. But, he would have to, for Amelia had gone back home.

And, the worst part was that he didn't even know her last name. Or anything about her. But, he knew the exact shade of her eyes, and that she spent far longer in German than she likely should have.

Waiting for him.

Elise had taken the time to copy Amelia's pertinent information from her passport. Ludwig had gone to Gilbert's home, hoping to coax his brother for help. Quietly the soft-spoken woman had pressed a paper into Ludwig's hand.

Her green eyes were filled with a touch of pity... and understanding. She squeezed his hand briefly.

"I love Gilbert," she said, when Ludwig stared at the paper blankly. "But he doesn't understand that for some soul mates, it is harder to... fall in love so quickly."

His face twisted into a hint of relief, that someone understood.

"I built someone up in my head too," Elise continued, "And, when it was Gilbert and not what I had always wanted; I didn't know what to do. I did not accept him at first, either."

"She won't forgive me," Ludwig said quietly, the most emotion he'd ever shown his sister-in-law. "This is too large of a mistake."

She laughed at his fear, openly laughed. His blue eyes blinked in wounded surprise.

"Oh Ludwig," she said fondly, "I think you would be surprised."

A small flame of hope began to burn in his chest.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Rated M. This is a piece of literary fiction. The Author does not claim ownership pertaining to the ideas/characteristics/ect, of Hetalia or any subsidiary thereof. **_

_**Rated M. **_

OoOoOo

Ludwig had barely made it through air port security, before he was already feeling ill at ease over this plan. However, somewhere, an ocean away, his soul mate was lost and sad. She was hurting from a terrible pain he had caused, but he was not a bad person for being unable to accept her so easily. It wasn't that he thought her a terrible person, not at all. Clumsy, granted, and loud; yes. But not terrible.

Not as someone he could never want nor love. It was the bitter and glaring fact that she simply did not measure up to the fantasies he had created in his head. She wasn't a sweet and demure Canadian woman, or a vivacious Australian. Nor, was she a proper and cultured English woman. No... she was... American.

Yet, even though he held no particular love of the country, and had heard so many negative things about the people there; Ludwig reflected on the smile she'd given him that last day. The utter helplessness in her expression as she tried to give him a pleasant 'Goodbye'. The shine in her eyes or unshed tears.

Reflecting on that, made him hurt. It made him miss the cocky American. He tightened his hold on his luggage, and checked his ticket one more time.

His thoughts shifted to the angry scowl on his brother's face. The obvious displeasure at Ludwig. Not actually for rejecting Amelia, that was Ludwig's choice, but for _how _he had done it. It did not take much for the blonde to realize that Gilbert saw a lot of himself in the heartbroken American woman. Elise had promised to smooth things over for him with Gilbert, while he was gone.

Elise had understood. Some people simply didn't blindly love the other half. Some had to find a reason to do it.

She'd flown an ocean to find him... six times, he vaguely recalled her saying. Maybe that had been the reason he'd softened toward Amelia. Maybe it was the fact she'd respected his distance and waited. Or, perhaps, it was just that she'd loved him from the beginning, even when he'd wanted nothing to do with her.

That thought alone made his heart clench in determination. Amelia had loved him. Therefore, it might not be too late, and she might love him still. Because, he knew now that he loved her.

OoOoOo

In a quiet neighborhood, in a bustling city in Montana, as the snow fell harder and harder, a young woman sat in the empty silence of her living room.

Amelia had kicked off her snow boots and simply... sat. She hadn't moved since she left the support group three hours ago. She was wallowing, just a bit. Then she'd pick herself back up by her bootstraps and do something.

She had a bunch of things to get done anyway. There were mindless tasks, they advised her to bury herself in for a bit, such as cleaning and cooking. Blue eyes, infinitely sad, glanced over to the window, as the snow continued to fall in fat flakes of white.

She wasn't even certain what she was waiting for, anymore. There was no hope of a soul mate to cling to. Nothing to ease the sting of the loneliness that threatened to suffocate her. She merely sat, like a painting on a wall.

Yet, deep inside of her, Amelia was not ready to give up hope yet. Some other abandoned soul mates still found love. Perhaps not the predestined sort, but a happy existence. So, she dragged herself to get ready for bed, and knew that tomorrow would be a new day.

She still had work to do, and she'd find away to let go of Ludwig. Because despite him not wanting her, she couldn't hate him. She wasn't...w hat he wanted. She avoided looking at herself in the mirror, because it brought up old doubts.

Maybe she wasn't pretty enough. Or smart enough. It had to have been her, after all. Ludwig had been freaking perfect. She'd gotten to listen to Gilbert praise about his brother for weeks, almost two months.

Her house did not feel like home anymore. It felt cold and alone. Bleak. Bleak was a good word for it. Often, she wondered what about her was so awful, that not even her soul mate would want her. The Austrian man had been nice to her, and Elise had talked to her.

Elise had tried to get her to stay, saying that Ludwig only needed a few more days to think. Yet, she couldn't ignore her job any longer, or she wouldn't have one. Her FMLA was all used up, and she had bills to pay.

So, practicality had won out over a life time of hopes and dreams. That had been crushed by a freaking cup of coffee. She thought that maybe that is why he'd said no. However, she knew it was far more than that.

Amelia rubbed tiredly at her temples. Thinking of it too much made her cry.

Crying made her hurt.

But, she'd rather this. Because despite it all, she would always love Ludwig. And, she took comfort in knowing she wasn't alone. It didn't happen often, that a soul mate was rejected, but it did happen.

Amelia forced herself to smile and thing of the future. It could get better. Because, it could not get any worse.

OoOoOo

Ludwig adjusted his clothes, trying to appear as polite as possible as he knocked on the blue door. He shuffled, ignoring the cold sting in his hands and face at the bitter chill. It took a few moments, before a man answered, looking none too pleased to see him.

"Yeah?"

"Hello," Ludwig said in clearly accented English. "I am sorry to bother you, but that house next door-"

He paused to point to Amelia's address.

"The woman that lives there, she is not answering."

The man drew together his large, bushy, white eyebrows in a furrowed line.

"She wouldn't," he responded gruffly. "she's at her meeting."

Ludwig blinked, confused by his words.

"What?"

The old man peered at Ludwig, with a strange sort of light in his eyes, as if he somehow could guess who Ludwig was. His brown eyes shifted to the house and back to Ludwig.

"Her soul mate rejected her, she's been going to a support group for the people like her. The abandoned ones. The Mrs. and I look in on her from time to time, she always comes and shovels are driveway when it snows. Sweetest thing, that girl."

Ludwig felt an uncomfortable knot form in his shoulders as the weight of the man's words proved to be a brutal reminder that he hadn't really gotten to know his soul mate at all.

"A-abandoned?" He clarified with a wince.

The old man's stare did not spare him.

"Yup. Shame isn't it? Some people take a gem and toss it in the trash." He quipped, eyeing the younger man up and down.

Ludwig cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"I am sure they had their reasons."

Brown eyes stared at him a moment longer.

"Don't we all?" The old man muttered with distaste. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my program's on."

Ludwig, would have responded, but the man shut the door in his face with a deafening 'Thud'. A sense of panic twitched at him, however, he refused to be swayed. He marched over to her door once more, and stamped his feet to return some feeling to them.

He'd wait.

OoOoOo

Two hours later, a modest green car pulled down the snow covered street, making crunching sounds as it compacted the evidence of the weather beneath it. He watched, partially frozen, as it pulled into her driveway.

He had been sitting, waiting patiently, on her stoop.

He watched as she turned the car off, and got out, closing the door behind her. Out of reflex, at the sight of her again, his heart sped up and he smiled softly. Completely unaware he was doing so.

She came closer, and just as she saw him, she stopped dead in her tracks. His smile dimmed as she slowly lowered her foot and blinked. Blue eyes widened at him, from behind her glasses. The small flakes of white clung to her hair, some melted and some did not.

One or two took a path to land on her nose.

Her hair was down, and she had a blue scarf wound around her neck to ward off the chill. It matched her eyes perfectly and made them stand out even more.

In that moment, Ludwig had never seen anyone more enchanting in all his life.

"Wh-What are you doing here?" She asked, not sad but neither was she glad to see him. Amelia just looked... lost.

As if Ludwig were some great mystery she did not even begin to understand.

"I-I... wanted to apologize." He said with a slight stammer as his face flushed red.

She glanced down, tilting her face away from him.

"You could have just called," his soul mate replied softly. " You didn't have to come. It's expensive and I know you don't like it here."

He didn't, but he did like her.

"I thought about it," Ludwig admitted, trying to keep from crowding her because he wanted to get closer to her. It was hurting him physically to keep his distance when she looked at him like that.

"I was afraid you wouldn't answer," he admitted with open sincerity.

Amelia lifted her head up just a touch, her blue eyes locked with his.

"I would have." She told him without hesitation.

And, he suddenly knew that she was telling the truth. Despite what had happened between them, she would not have ignored him. She was much stronger, in that respect, than he was. If she had turned out to be his fantasy, and had rejected him... Ludwig would have been crushed.

Silence stretched between them, and though he saw her shiver from the cold, Amelia said nothing at all. She didn't try to leave, but she wasn't rushing to embrace him again. Which he both did and did not want. It wasn't really a German way to express excitement. Hugs threw him off.

But he wanted her arms around him, not this self-created distance. His lips parted, desperately seeking to say something. Anything to break up the silence.

"I forgive you," she said, beating his attempts into the snow. "If that's what you're looking for."

Ludwig's blue eyes widened and he stared at her. Amelia wouldn't look at him, she simply kept her gaze down. A soft, but sad sort of smile was on her lips.

"What?" He asked, his throat felt tight.

"I forgive you, I do." She said again, quietly this time. "So, go home. Feel better. Don't feel guilty. It happens sometimes."

All he could do was breathe, and he thought it was noisy to his ears. He was falling apart at the way she was attempting to absolve him of his guilt. He'd thought the words would sound hollow or superficial, but they weren't. He could see it on her face. It was taking everything she had, and as her blue gaze clashed with his; Ludwig saw tears.

She was smiling through them, and it seemed so strange to him.

"Go home Ludwig. It's alright. I'll be fine."

He stood, rooted to the spot, as she started walking forward. Her chin was tilted up and her back was straight. She stopped, just a foot or two away from him, blinking and trying to keep more tears from falling.

"Give my best to Elise and Gilbert." Amelia said softly.

"Amelia," Ludwig replied, looking at her as if he couldn't understand her words. She was pushing him away? He knew it was possibility, but she wasn't even yelling at him. Her tears, however, were painful for him as he knew they likely were for her.

"Please, Ludwig," she said with a hint of desperation in her words. Blue eyes seared into him, pleasing with him to let her keep her pride. "I can't make you love me if you don't. And, I'm not going to try and punish you just because you don't want me."

The nearly defeated slump of her shoulders, and the way she looked at him had Ludwig struggling to breathe.

Then, she smiled at him, with a light of love shining in her eyes that made his veins sing with the knowledge that part of her still cared for him.

"You didn't do anything wrong, okay? You don't have to love me. I know that. I know you probably... probably never will and that's okay too. But, please, have a heart. Let me grieve the loss of you in private."

"Amelia," he said again, trying to convey all that he felt in that single word as his own eyes pricked with hot-tears against the cold.

She shook her head lightly, digging her keys out of her pocket, and unlocked her door.

"Go home Ludwig," she said once more, barely above a whisper. "Go home, and be happy. Okay? I want you to be happy."

"I do want you." He said in a rush. His features the color of crimson as he flushed. It was the most he'd really ever said to her, out of denying her and their connection.

She paused, minutely moving her head to the side slightly, as if she hadn't heard him correctly. She hadn't even taken the keys out of the door yet.

Ludwig felt deep in his heart, that this was a pivotal moment.

"Amelia, I came here... to America... to _you_, to apologize for hearting you and to tell you that I want you to come back to Germany."

She didn't turn, or answer him. She stood there, like a living statue, not even breathing.

"I love you, Amelia," Ludwig confessed, feeling at the end of his rope.

She whirled on him them, an Angel of fury and exposed hurt.

"Don't be cruel," she snapped with tears glittering as a further testament to broken heart. "Don't mock me."

"I'm not-"

"You don't love me, I know you don't. You've made that perfectly clear!"

He took a half step back from her, and ended up tripping off her stoop and into the snow. For a moment, her face was awash in concern as her hand reached for him. But it was not quick enough, and she watched him fall down.

Ludwig swallowed, feeling humiliated and embarrassed. Blue met blue and for a moment he thought she might come help him, but Amelia's features scrunched into sadness.

"I'm sorry," she said, forcing the words past her mouth, as she went inside her house. She shut the door on him, but she couldn't bring herself to look into his eyes again.

OoOoOo

The apartment reeked of stale alcohol and unwashed male. Ludwig was not ashamed to admit he was a bit...depressed. He hadn't shaved in days, and had taken the rest of his 'holiday' to stew in his own despair.

He'd gone home, not knowing what else to do.

Being rejected by a soul mate, the person that was to love you above all others, was utterly awful. He could completely understand why Amelia hadn't liked it. He'd called around to his brother's and Elise had known the whole story, before it was even out of his mouth.

Amelia had spoken to Gilbert.

She'd talk to Gilbert, but she wouldn't respond to Ludwig. It stung and it burned. He hurt. His mind and heart. So, he drowned his sorrows in alcohol. When he tried to call her, his tongue seemed to shake, unable to form words. His heart beat around like a caged bird, and he couldn't form a coherent sentence.

That might have also been due to the alcohol.

His brother and Elise had tried to coax him to come by, but Ludwig would not hear of it. He quietly drank, until it didn't hurt as bad anymore. For several days he did this.

Until he was, so rudely, intruded upon.

The door opened, with a loud slam, and Gilbert was hauling him up to snarl in his face.

"What is the matter with you?" The albino sibling questioned while shaking Ludwig a bit. "Get a hold of yourself."

"She...she won't come back," he replied in a still drunken state.

Gilbert's hard glared, faded and pity took its place. That was infinitely worse than the anger.

"Ludwig-"

"Won't come back," the blonde slurred, "hates me."

"She doesn't hate you." Gilbert said with a sigh, setting his drunken and foul smelling brother back down on the sofa.

Blue eyes, with a glassy look to them, stared mutely forward.

"Honestly, Lud, she doesn't hate." His older brother said, sitting next to him and popping open a beer. He took a deep drink before he sighed again.

"Did I ever tell you about Elise and me?"

Ludwig nodded, silently.

"Oh good, then you'll love hearing it again." Gilbert replied with a winning grin and slight cackle.

OoOoOo

He had to go back to work in three days, and Ludwig knew that his productivity would be horrendous after all that had happened.

Gilbert had finished off his beer, and taken the rest home. He called it a payment for forcing Ludwig to bathe, shave, and face the world again.

The blue-eyed brother was as close to hating Gilbert as he ever had in all his years. Though, on some level, he understood it was out of care that Gilbert did everything he did.

So, when he heard the lock turning on the door again, he assumed it was his 'Awesome' older brother. He turned with a glare from his coffee pot, and a frown was already settled on his features.

Therefore, he was wholly unprepared when it was not Gilbert that swung the door open. It was not crimson eyes that stared back into his, but the blue that haunted him every time he looked in the mirror.

His frown morphed into shock at the sight of her there.

Amelia.

Her hair was a bit messy, and her clothes hung a bit loosely on her. Simple traveling clothes, of jeans and a T-shirt. He didn't even see a suitcase with her.

She swallowed, and looked at him. Slightly afraid and dazed all at once.

"Your brother gave me the key... and...I.. have no idea what I'm doing here." She said, and his shock faded into disbelief.

Ludwig looked around, grateful that Gilbert had cleaned before Amelia came. Otherwise she would think he lived like a barn yard animal.

"I live here," Ludwig said, and it sounded lame to his own ears.

But, it made her give a startled laugh and she blushed, unable to meet his gaze. She found his potted plant highly interesting though.

"Yeah, I know," she admitted softly.

She shuffled a toe at the wood floor and he could see she was struggling with what to say.

"But I... I got to thinkin', when you left, that maybe you weren't being cruel. Maybe you really... meant it and you wanted me to..."

"Come to Germany?" He finished, repeating his words as a feeling of warmth exploded in his thoughts.

She'd come back to him. The crazy American had gotten on a plane , with what looked to be nothing, and actually came to him. Again.

"Yeah," Amelia nodded, risking a glance at him.

They both eyed one another for a moment.

"Did you mean it?" She asked, and Ludwig needed no elaboration.

"Yes." He said, placing his hands in front of him and on the counter. "Yes, I meant every word."

The look of radiant joy and disbelief that shone of her face, was enough for Ludwig to nearly melt. She was gazing at him as if he was the keeper of the stars themselves.

"I love you." She said.

In eight steps, Ludwig closed the distance between them. Feeling the strange optimism that Americans seemed to hold, like Amelia, that maybe it would all work out in the end. That perhaps, things really were meant to be.

Because as he kissed her, Ludwig knew what it felt like to be whole.

OoOoOo

Passionate kisses had made it so that one thing led to another as the pair was busy trying to memorize each precious inch of skin that was unveiled from the confines of clothing. Ludwig had managed to get them to his room, before Amelia's bra was tossed onto the ceiling fan.

Fevered caresses and gentle moans were the litany of passion they found themselves in. Until, it reached a point, where protection was called for.

He reached for the condom wrapper, ready to rip the damn thing open with his teeth if he had to, as Amelia mewled beneath him, clearly wanting more. Something Ludwig was happy to give her.

With quick and nimble fingers he rolled it down the length of his manhood.

A perplexed look crossed her face and she closed her legs quickly.

"Wat?" He panted, trying to discern why she was pulling away.

"Why... why does the condom have spikes on it?" She asked, blinking up at him half-afraid.

His face went carefully neutral, and he desperately had to keep himself from reaching for her to show her it would be just _fine_. Spikes or no.

"They don't... have these in America?" He asked, clearing his throat while he flushed.

"Not like that, we sure as hell don't." She said point at his manhood as if it were a vicious snake about to bite her. "I mean we have some studded things, but that just looks... bad."

Well, that wilted him a bit. Ludwig, was mortified by how off topic the sex had become.

"I have others," he offered and she nodded quickly, interest back in her eyes.

Fine. A different sort of condom. He could manage that fine. If he had to go the grocery store and get them, he would.

He carefully took it off, and searched in his night stand for another. Quickly he located one, and ripped it open, unrolling it over his length. Amelia had risen to her knees, as she kissed at his neck and shoulders while he finished getting ready.

He turned around to kiss her, when she pulled back and blinked for a moment.

Ludwig felt some unease at the way her blue eyes turned quizzical.

"Wat?" He asked again, feeling slightly absurd.

"Why did you have so many condoms anyway?" Amelia asked, her voice suddenly a touch suspicious.

Ludwig flushed at the implication and gaped at her.

"I didn't know if you were coming back, when I went to America, but I had been hopeful-"

A look of shy attraction stole over her features, as he got through most of the sentence. Amelia did not let him finish as she quickly covered his lips with hers.

"Ludwig," she purred with delight and arousal.

He nearly yelped when she pushed him down, with a look in her blue eyes that suggested he'd better be prepared to give her his all. Because she would take nothing less.

OoOoOo

In his home, with his dear wife, Gilbert cackled with joy at his own awesomeness.

Elise glanced at him in open amusement.

"You seem rather pleased with yourself," she commented dryly.

"By now, by dear bruder, should be confessing undying love to Amelia." Gilbert confided with a twinkle in his crimson gaze.

Elise smiled at him, shaking her head.

"Hm, I don't think that is really Ludwig's nature. However, you really have taken a liking to that girl."

"Oh, you are the only one for me Elise," he whispered as he kissed the top of her head. "But I felt for the poor girl. She was just so... fun. I couldn't let Ludwig leave his life so empty. She's perfect for him, like you are for me."

Elise's soft features turned a sweet shade of red as she listened to the poetry-sweet words that Gilbert held, just for her. It was what had made her realize that he was her other half. She never had to voice an insecurity, Gilbert always knew. And, he was the 'excitement' that she needed.

But Elise knew that she was Gilbert's safe haven. The quiet place he could go to when he needed rest. She caught a glimpse of the soul mate tattoo and looked at it in fondness.

_"So, you are the one meant for me!"_

Yes, much like Ludwig and Amelia. They were just different enough to be a perfect fit.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Huzzah for reviews. I know some of you don't like the disclaimer... but I have to have it. Sorry!_**

**_Be advised, I claim no right to ideas/characters/ ect contained herein. I do not claim responsibility for Hetalia, or any affiliated licensed ideas. _**

**_Remember skin cancer is a big deal. And, if you have skin you can get skin Cancer. So lets be on top of those moles and freckles!_**

**_Please note, this is only a STORY, and should not be intended to cause offense in anyway. _**

OoOoOo

"I don't understand," The young woman said with a slight quaking of her voice. "It was just a little mole."

A nervous laugh breaks the air and her blue eyes are wide and frightened. Terrified even. The words seem foreign and impossible. This Doctor is just... a _quack_. That had to be it. But the sinking sensation tells her that she is wrong, and scared. It can't be. The words, those scary and hated _words_. They had actually been said. To her.

She...

"Ms. Jones," The Dermatologist sighs sadly. She can see in his eyes that he is very near tears himself.

"It was a freckle, really." She insists in denial. But, the pit of her stomach drops to her feet, proverbially speaking. "Right?"

The silence seems horrible as she is all but begging for him to be joking. He _has_ to be kidding. He has to be! But, then again who kids about this sort of thing? Hot tears sting her eyes as her gaze searched his empathetic face. No. No, he has to be wrong. The stupid test has to be wrong.

"Right?" She asks again, quietly in disbelief. Her voice cracks at the simple question.

It takes all she has not to break out into a sobbing hysteria as his warm blue eyes look away from her and he shakes his head with a great deal of remorse.

"I am so sorry." He says softly, his French accent coming through as he reaches for her knee and places his hand on her gently. "But we need to talk about treatment options, now. I am recommending-"

Sorry? He's sorry? Why? Amelia doesn't understand. Her head feels like its in a fog. She hears the words he's saying but she simply cannot interpret them. She's not stupid, far from it. She knows what the words 'malignant' and 'melanoma' mean. It's curable. Just skin cancer. That was like, the least frightening form of Cancer. Or, well...

"I... This cannot be possible." She mutters to herself, shoving a hand through her hair. "It's... are you _sure_?"

His blonde hair catches the light as he clears his throat, nodding solemnly. Damn it! He was sure? Really, really sure?

"Yes, very sure. The pathology report confirms it. T3a malignant melanoma."

Suddenly, the walls seem like they are closing in, and Amelia finds herself laughing. Though it is far from funny at the moment. Amelia shakes, like a leaf in the wind, and stares at the Dermatologist with his flawless skin. His nearly seductive appearance, even as he is tearing her world apart -admittedly against his will-, and for a moment she is furious with him. How dare he? How dare this man with his coifed locks, and piercing blue eyes...

How dare he do this to her?

But, then reason returns and Amelia deflates in an instant. It wasn't like he had snuck into her room and shoved the tumor into her skin. No. She swallows, blinking at the tears start to trickle down her cheeks.

"What does that mean?" She asks, but the voice doesn't sound like it belongs to her. She feels almost like this is an out of body experience. This is someone else's life. A nightmare.

And, it is only just beginning.

Dr. Bonfoy, grimaces slightly, as he straightens in his chair.

"It means the tumor was 3.4 mm thick, without ulceration."

It sounded tiny, really. 'Mm', that was tiny. Certainly.

"3.4 mm? That's so small." Amelia replies feeling even more confused. "Without Ulceration, that's... good... right?"

What the hell does all this mean? Why does he look like he's about to bawl? She feels the same, but its only skin cancer. He can just...

They can cut it out, right?

"Your chances are better without ulceration." He alludes uneasily.

A lump forms in her throat, tight and hot.

"Chances?" Amelia sits back in her chair, as tears spill over onto her cheeks. Without a word, Dr. Bonfoy proffers a tissue her way. "What the hell are you talking about? Chances? It's just skin cancer! Cut it out and be done with it."

The way his eyes tighten, tells her that this is more than some little ugly mole or freckle thing. Some insignificant tumor. Her head tilts back and she closes her eyes fighting the chills that spread up her arms. There is a spark of clarity. Or perhaps it was acceptance. A form of it, at the very least. That caused her to slowly open her eyes. Blue orbs locked with darker blue.

"I'm... I'm only 19."

His jaw clenches and he nods again.

"I know, Ms. Jones. I know." There is true misery in his gentle statement. Some part of her is grateful for that. The silence stretches between them, vast and unending. Finally, with an unsteady breath, Amelia gives him a questioning glance.

"You mentioned treatment options?" Her voice is hollow. She straightened in the chair, trying to appear every inch of the adult she now was. However, all she wanted was the comforting arms of her mother.

Oh Lord. How was she supposed to tell her parents? Dread coursed through her veins, filling her was a second wave of shock.

The Dermatologist squeezes her knee. A gentle gesture. The slightest grimace appears on his face, before he masks his expression carefully. Clinically.

"We need to remove wider margins of the surrounding skin, and do a satellite node biopsy. As soon as possible. I also need to schedule you for a CT and PET scan."

More terms. Words without meaning, but they sound horrifying and she hasn't even done anything yet. Amelia nods, not knowing what else to do. Her hands shake and she feels cold, suddenly. There is no one here to comfort her. Mattie is at University and so far away. How was she supposed to tell him? What was she supposed to say?

"What does that mean?" Amelia asks a bit helplessly.

"I am going to refer you to a melanoma specialist. They will want to preform scans and see if the melanoma has metastasized-"

"Metastasized?" She echoed, feeling a surge of terror. "You mean, spread?"

"Yes."

A straightforward answer. And her world drops out from under her.

"You can't just cut it out?"

"No. At least, not until we know just how far the cancer has traveled."

"Where could it even go?" She asked, truly unaware.

"Everywhere."

It is ominous. And she feels her stomach clench tightly as a wave a nausea overtakes the sudden strange sounds of rapid breathing that permeate the room.

"How bad is this?"

He doesn't answer. But the silence is answer enough. Maybe skin cancer, wasn't 'just' skin cancer.

"I might die, is that what you are saying?"

Technically, he hadn't said much of anything because she kept cutting him off. Amelia was furious. This wasn't freaking fair! She hadn't... she hadn't really had the chance to do much of _anything._ Now she might die? No. No, she was going to beat this. Her blue eyes turn slightly hard as she stares at the Doctor.

"Okay, so scans and surgery? Maybe more," she shrugs slightly trying to boost herself into bravery. "What else?"

The French doctor, gives her a timid smile then.

"You're a fighter," he announces with a sincere look about him. "I can tell."

And, somehow, that helps her hear what he has to say.

OoOoOo

She meets Dr. Beilschmidt, three days later. Some blonde, smoking hot surgeon, that makes her feel even more grotesque. As he explains just how large the incision is going to be. Just how many lymph nodes he will have to take. Dr. Beilschmidt tells her about lymphedema. How she will need a drain kept inside her body to drain out the excess fluid into a bag.

Blindly, she nods along. Amelia tells him she understands, and she does. Yet, who can truly know what will happen before it does? Matthew... Matthew was coming to stay with her. He promised he would be out on the next flight available. Which was in two days. His violet gaze was tinged red, when she'd broken down calling him on skype. They had cried together as Amelia pleaded with him to see a dermatologist as well, and to not freak out yet.

Which hadn't worked well for either of them.

She hasn't been handling the news well. Honestly, Amelia was more in survival mode. She was drifting through her days in a fog. She signs the slip of paper that allows him to operate on her. Turns out he is a surgeon in training. That doesn't make her feel any better, but someone has to teach him. The fully-fledged surgeon will be watching over his shoulder. He will remove 5 lymph nodes from her body. To check them all for melanoma. Best case scenario, it hasn't spread.

Worst case...

They all knew what it was, but she listened anyway as he rattled off courses of treatment, which she would follow up with her Oncologist.

Worst case, it had spread and she was looking at multiple 'mets'. New tumors that had been thrown off from the original, and could end up anywhere. Her lungs, bones, brain, joints, other lymph nodes, spleen, intestines, rectum, and every other place considered near devastating.

And, the good news kept going. Radiation and chemo didn't work on Melanoma. Interferon had questionable success and was not proven to truly help with remission. Only experimental trials were possibilities for treatment. And, those she had to qualify for. There was always the chance she might not be approved for any of them. They had to tell her that.

Amelia hates that as much as she is trying to psyche herself up to thinking this could turn out alright... they have to throw the truth in her face. God. She wanted Mattie. Or anyone, really, that was tell her it was all going to be 'okay'. Even if it wasn't. Even if they had to lie to her. That was all she wanted right now.

OoOoOo

Mattie holds her hand. So tightly, she is nearly concerned that something might break, but at the same time the pain in her hand is nicer than the one sewn into her flesh. The large incision looks disfiguring, but everyone assures her that it will heal well. Amelia doesn't believe them, not really. To her, it looks like she was attacked by a wild animal, or a shark of some sort. It makes her swallow tears of shame and rage whenever she glimpses it. She can see the way the flesh is pulled, taut and angry. They had been forced to take a skin graft from another area.

Taking more than they had originally planned... it worries her greatly.

But, despite that, she was hopeful that maybe it hadn't spread to the lymph nodes.

However, the sweet Australian oncologist is pulling the rug out from under her again. His green eyes are concerned and hardened. He's likely had to do this thousands of times. She feels a flash of pity for him, even as her world is crumbling around her. The scans revealed further possible involvement. They had to take more lymph nodes than originally planned.

Amelia starts to hate the phrase with a passion. Why do they have to tell her that? She knows they have to, but it makes her feel a swell of impotent fury at the words. What the hell is that actuall plan then?

He clears his throat, continuing on. He states that there was active melanoma activity past the 'satellite' nodes.

Which was the reason for her higher discomfort. Out of the 27 lymph nodes removed, 13 had been positive for melanoma at biopsy. Some showed visible signs, others had not. It indicated the higher likelihood of 'mets'. However, none had appeared on scans. The kind oncologists starts speaking of 'options' and 'trials'. But, all Amelia sees is time slipping through her fingers.

Precious time.

Amelia cries, and Mattie holds her, stroking her hair. He tells her that they can 'handle' this. That she isn't going to die. In her heart, she wants desperately to believe him. yet, insecurity and fear tighten their hold on her until she cannot form words. Her free hand clutches desperately at his shoulder, as she sobs. Mattie promises he will tell mom, because Amelia can't find the strength to do it.

She can't say the words yet.

She simply... can't.

OoOoOo

Amelia lives at the hospital. Sometimes.

She spends a few days every week getting her experimental treatment. It is a living hell. If the nausea and chills don't get her, the bone searing pain will. She thinks as they inject another terrifying looking substance into her that she cannot name.

It would be a joke just to pretend she could actually spell it. That's all they have for her. Experiments. She's grateful, but so damn tired and afraid. But, she smiles. She has to smile. Everyone she known and loves watch her as if she's about to implode on them at any moment. Amelia cries enough for all of them, when no one watches. She wipes away the tears and puts on a brave face.

Because Mattie and Mom _need_ her too.

She doesn't blame them. Amelia isn't upset with them at all. She understands. Its just exhausting. Some days, she honestly is upbeat and happy. Other days... well... other days she wants to give up. She wants to stop. Because it hurts and she doesn't even know if its working. Yet, each treatment, and check up they tell her to push forward. To not give up.

There comes a day, when she believes them. And, she is grateful for the pushing that annoyed the hell out of her just three weeks ago. Everything tastes off or wrong, but coffee is still bitter water. So, she drinks it down, hoping to quell the pain in her stomach. Her blue eyes watch over the rim of the Styrofoam cup. Staring at the other people in the waiting room. They all have melanoma, like her.

Most are older, but some are as young as she is. Its a strange sort of comfort. She wouldn't wish this on her worst enemy, but it is nice... not to be _alone._ The other patients are both genders, and every possible ethnicity. So, it doesn't just happen to one demographic. After all, she surmised nearly sadly, if you have skin it makes sense you can have skin cancer.

Passing by the glass, she sees a familiar head of blonde hair. In green-ish scrubs. The colors must mean something, she thinks absently, as Dr. Beilschmidt turns his head slightly. Their blue gazes meet and hold for a moment. Amelia smiles then, purely on reflex. She is grateful to the surgeon that did her first surgery, of course she is, but she hasn't seen him since.

He pauses for a moment, in his stride, and blinks at her. Amelia quirks a brow in amusement and shakes her head. He probably doesn't even remember her. Its been months since then. His handsome features take on an appearance of a deer in a headlight and she snorts into her cup.

_Doctors._

OoOoOo

The oncologist warns her that though her tumors have not grown, they have not exactly shrunk either. For now, she's in a holding pattern. Mattie clutches her hand at the news. His violet eyes are strained as he tries to smile. It is brittle. Bitter.

Amelia understands. Though it hurts her slightly. Her world is being shattered again. But now, as an icing on the cake, she's told that her seemingly endless living hell of treatments have just pushed 'pause' on the growth. She wants to feel something other than disappointment, but it is incredibly difficult. Honestly, it is. Everyone tells her how she should be grateful, and she is... to some extent.

However, it has taken a toll on her body. The scars are there. Visible and she shies away from the mirrors. Her family points out that it's great she still has her hair. Amelia knows its brittle and thin now. Her skin is unnaturally pale and she has lost so much weight that she doesn't appear anything like she used to. In short, she hates that her body makes her feel like a stranger from how she _was_.

She just wants to feel like a woman again, and not like a Guinea pig on the chopping block.

But, at the hospital and the office she makes friends. They call it a 'support group'. She calls it a chance to keep her sanity. These people understand, and confessing her fears won't terrify them the way it would her family.

In the halls, every Thursday, she sees the same blonde surgeon. Amelia makes a point to smile at him. Once or twice, she waves as he passes by.

Today, however, he alters the routine, by actively stopping in front of the window, and giving a small wave to her. Their eyes locked and Amelia couldn't explain why she blushed.

OoOoOo

"I have cancer," she says, knowing very well that he is aware of her case.

A faint, dull, red flush appears on his cheeks and his sharp blue eyes look away for a moment. Then he glances back at her with a nearly shy expression.

"Even cancer patients must eat, yes?"

Jaded blue eyes watch him from behind corrective lenses.

"They do," she acknowledges. "But cute surgeons normally don't ask out their patients."

She can't help but point that fact out. She's flattered. She scared. And, more terrified of dying alone than he could ever even begin to guess. Dr. Beilschmidt looks down and she notices that he is toeing his shoe on the ground.

"But, you are not my patient anymore," he points out.

That was true. Her biopsies and lymph node removals were all finished for the time being. Amelia feels her heart pound in her chest. It is painful, but nothing compared to everything she has endured already.

"I could die," she tells him them. Without mercy or meanness. It is simply a fact. A glaring, sad, fact.

"We all will eventually," the surgeon reasons.

That makes her smile, and Amelia shakes her head in amusement.

"This is probably, hands down, the worst possible time to fall in love with someone."

"Not for me."

That does make her laugh.

"Why?" She asks and it spans a width and breadth of emotions with individual questions of their own.

He takes a deep breath, the kind that makes a sound, as he shifts nervously.

"Because, I really like you."

"Me?" She asks, arching a brow. "The woman dying from skin cancer?" Her blue eyes dart around. "I think you could make a better choice."

There is wry amusement in the moment, but also the want to spare him the sadness. The heartache. But her heart treacherously _hopes._ She wants to know what its like to fall in love. Just once.

Just... in case...

"I've made my choice." He replies easily, with a charming grin.

Amelia grins at that. These surgeons. Such stubborn and God-complex people. But, that confidence had gotten her through some downright horrid odds.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." She confirms again, nodding. "One date."

He smiles then, and it was a show stopper. The way his features transformed before her very eyes. Amelia wished she had met him sooner, or maybe later... if she... _when_ she made it. Yeah.

When she made it. They could have something, couldn't they? Briefly, her mind entertains the possibility of a future.

"What is your first name, by the way?"

"Ludwig."

She repeats it, tasting it on her tongue. It feels oddly... right.

For a moment, just a single and precious moment, she feels like life is bright again. As if her whole life doesn't hang in the balance of scans and modern medicine. She laughs, wondering how this crazy chance came about.

"You seriously want to date a chick with cancer?"

He shakes his head and she watches him mutely.

"No, I want to date you." He affirms.

"You're crazy, you know that right?" Amelia asks, arching a brow at him.

"Probably, but I blame med school for that."

She smiles then, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes.

"Makes sense," she answers for lack of anything else to say. His blue eyes are on her, and she doesn't feel the same difference in their appearance as she once did. He's looking at her as if she's beautiful and it almost makes her hurt. Uncomfortably, she rubs at her arm.

"So," Ludwig fills in the silent space. "Cafeteria food or coffee?"

"What?"

"Cafeteria food or coffee?" He repeats patiently. "I only have about an hour before I need to get back."

She blinks at him owlishly.

"You want to have a date now?"

He smiles at her nearly bashfully.

"Why not?" He questions, looking at her expectantly.

She opens her mouth, but something resonates with his simple question. 'Why not'? She didn't have a reason not too. Why not now? Why not today? Why not take the chance? Amelia looks down, and then back up.

"Coffee." She sputters out, feeling impulsive and strangely _alive_. Being able to be the woman she is. To do what other women were able to do.

His blue eyes capture hers in a nearly mesmerizing gaze.

"I was hoping you'd say that." He says with a smile as he reaches for her hand. As if he has every right to hold it. His skin slides over hers and she clasps at the warmth he provides as if it is a life line.

And her heart skips a beat, but not from fear this time.

Today... today she could find something that Cancer couldn't touch. And, oh... how she wanted it.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Be advised, I claim no right to ideas/characters/ ect contained herein. I do not claim responsibility for Hetalia, or any affiliated licensed ideas. _**

**_Not meant to cause offense in any way, shape, or form. :) Per request, crazy obsessive Germany. And a Germany, Russia, America love triangle. _**

**_I own nothing. ;)_**

OoOoOo

The brush of her fingertips across her lips. The very action entices him in ways she could not begin to understand. The flash of white teeth as she smiles with amusement at some other country's rambling attempt at humor... causes his heart to constrict nearly painfully.

She's his.

She just doesn't know it yet.

He tugs absently at the tie, which feels more like a noose at the moment. But, he wants to use it to bind her too him. To keep those hands from touching anything but silk and his skin. Those delicate fingers, blushing cheeks, and sweet lips. He nearly wants to _devour_ them. He wants to watch her as she comes apart in his arms. Under the onslaught of his touch and mouth. He wants to see her shake and tremble as he claims every inch of her for his own.

Because she belongs to him.

Its fairly obvious, and everyone should know it. It should be a matter of historical record by this point.

He pretends that it doesn't burn him alive to watch her talk to any nation that isn't him. To see those wide smiles directed at the unworthy bastards. The ones that were clearly trying to steal her from him. It would never happen. It wasn't a possibility. It wasn't _allowed_ to be a possibility.

America...

Sweet America. Was _his._

Germany flushed slightly as he watched her. The combination of the heat, and her peak farming time was getting to him. She smelled of fertile lands and summer breezes. He wanted her so badly, that it made him ache. But his irritation was swiftly mounting as well. Her neighbor to the north was monopolizing her again. As was South Korea. Germany also was highly displeased with the way America kept glancing over at the U.K.

As if _England_ were anything special.

The island nation was testing his limits, and aggravating the world over with his decision to leave long held unions. However, Germany would be a liar if he said he was wholly displeased by the choice. It made one less competitor for America's affections. Not that Germany even bothered to recognize him as such. Because he would never permit someone to chase after America openly, nor for long.

No good came from letting stray dogs attempt to abscond with his love. The rage he felt toward the others, was deep and nearly consuming. It rivaled the undying affection he had for America. But the darkness inside of him, the part that wanted to harm the other nations for even speaking to her, it grew ever so slightly as America laughed sweetly, musical and lyrical to his ears, at something South Korea said.

His blue eyes narrowed briefly at the dark-haired nation with a fury that would be unsettling if anyone could see it had nothing to do with the interruption of the meeting.

"America!" He called out sharply, but there was a warm undertone in his voice at her name.

Delicate features, turned toward him, as Sky blue orbs widened behind Texas. She blushed faintly at being called out.

"...Yes?" She said nearly softly, and Germany was almost undone. The look of chastisement on her face was awakening parts of him that were best left away from prying eyes.

"Please move over here," He commanded steadily. It was clearly not a request, and he watched as she swallowed quickly and nodded.

"Uh, yeah, sure." She glanced over to South Korea, who shared a quick grin with her. Like two small children that knew they had been caught. Germany felt his agitation calm slightly at how quickly she changed seats, and with her there beside him, he knew he could protect her from the unsavory souls that wanted her. But they could never love her as much as he did. To Germany, she was as essential as breathing.

OoOoOo

She loved him too.

Germany knew it. America had said it many time during the course of their friendly years. '_See_ _ya!'_ and '_Gosh! You're great Germany!'_ Declared so openly. Boldly. Like she did not care what anyone else thought. He mused that she very well might not. His brash little love.

So, it is not terribly surprising to him, when his gaze covertly glances to America every now and then. He studies her under his lashes. Watching that stray lock of hair, Nantucket, jut up proudly. How her lips twitch into a smile and how that smile transforms her features into something bewitching. Germany feels a deep sense of satisfaction, just being near her.

However, there is one slightly large irritant to this otherwise delightful moment with her at his side.

Russia.

That Slavic nation is watching him, watch America. Germany was no fool. He knew of the twisted nature that Russia possessed, the very predatory way that he saw all of life. Nearly in a Darwinian fashion. Only the strong survived. Some part of Germany is aware that it makes a great deal of sense and that in some cases it has been proved true. Yet, that is not why Russia watches him now.

Russia has made it very clear, that he wants Germany. Yet, the smaller nation has no want of the brute. It is not Russia's violet eyes that fill his dreams at night. Nor does the Slavic nation possess the feminine laughter that causes Germany's heart to clench.

OoOoOo

Russia goes missing, and the world is on edge.

Blue eyes watch the meeting with heightened interest and paranoia.

OoOoOo

"What are you doing?" Russia demands, snarling despite the swollen features and cut lip.

America gazes at him, but there is something about her eyes that cause Russia to pause in his rage. He is hurt and lashing out. Partialy, he blames her. She knows that.

"When you get to the door," she whispers calmly, "take a left, and then at the end of the hall go right. Run, Russia. Run and do not look back."

The suggestion seems to have irked his pride, for he tenses and sneers at her.

"Please." America half-begs in desperation. Her tone turned suddenly urgent. "Just this once, _listen_ to me."

Her hands reach for him then, brushing away the blood-matted hair to the best of her ability. Her blue eyes are unreadable behind Texas as she looks him over. "Good." She mutters to herself.

Russia knows now that the damage is not as extensive as he thought, or had been concerned about. Questions burn in the back of his mind, refusing to be ignored. She's a fool. Germany will kill her for this.

"I will not leave."

America seemingly ignores him as she works against his restraints. Russia loves Germany, craves him like a sickness in his soul. The other nation is the only one that understands what the obsession does to you. How hard it is to fight against day in and day out.

"Yes, you will." She comments under her breath as she snaps the last set of chains. They both know she doesn't have the key, and time is running out until Germany returns. He will notice that America is missing from the meeting. That will agitate the European nation.

Russia pulls up to his full height, now no longer confined to a certain position.

"Nyet!" He growls.

America grabs his face then, her fingers were gentle on his bruised skin, but he still all the same. She takes a deep breath. He thinks she is an idiot if she feels she needs to explain the situation.

"I-.."

"Amerika, I-"

"Let me finish!" She said in a normal voice, which felt like a shout in the small and dark room. She is breathing quickly.

Russia falls into silence.

"I will never understand," America continued with luminescent eyes filled with tears, "why you wanted him?"

He's about to tell her, or tell her off, when her lips press against his injured ones with a butterfly-light pressure.

"Why did you want _him_?" She questioned looking lost and determined at the same time. "When you could have had _me?"_

The breath leaves him, as she knocks the proverbial wind from him with that simple set of questions. Violet eyes search guileless blue. She wasn't at fault and neither was Russia. They simply... were not for each other. It was lamentable and pitiable. Even now, his blood thrummed for Germany, and he could not return her affections.

"Am...Amerika," he said quietly.

She smiled then, understanding everything he wasn't saying. She nodded.

"I know." She answered as she pushed him toward the door. "It's alright. Go."

It occurs to him the sacrifice, she is making, for him. He had thought her a fool, and moron. But, she had known that he was taken, where he was, and had come to get him. Russia raised a battered hand and gently brushed her wheat-gold hair behind her ear. She reluctantly glanced up at him.

"Forgive me." Russia said, knowing that he could not give her what she wanted, but Germany would finally be happy. Which would make Russia happy for him. In a twisted sense. He would still try to conquer Germany. He needed to.

She smiled briefly, and nodded. She would forgive him anything, but she could not tell him that. Russia placed a soft kiss on her forehead, a small bit of reddish blood was left behind as he pulled away.

"Go." America commanded, once more. A sense of finality in her tone.

His hand drops from her warmth, and he shuffles out of the door without a backward glance. It is a kindness, she believes, because he won't have to see her cry.

OoOoOo

America snoops around the house to find what she is looking for. And, Dear Lord, how she wished she hadn't.

He's prepared everything. He has all other lotions, skin products, clothing sizes, and tastes picked out. In a room that is made for her. She fights back a bit of bile at the sight. Sher understands in a single minute, that he is utterly obsessed with her.

However, she has come this day to save Russia and everyone else. Germany included.

She can't allow him to become what he had once been. If being what he wanted, saved millions of lives...

Then so be it.

The Star-Spangled nation swallowed against the rolling waves of nausea as she steeled her resolve. From the look of the room, everything from the colors to the décor was to appeal to her softer side.

Which meant...

Ah, she understood.

OoOoOo

Germany strides through his front door, highly irritated and concerned that America had not been in attendance. He wonders where she has gone or what has happened to her. But he cannot seem to cool his temper. He is fully in control of his facilities, but he needs an outlet for his rage. The others had no right to speak of America in that manner. _None._

He'll kill them all, if anyone harmed a single hair on her head. He'd-

His blue gaze rivets to the slightly ajar door that leads to his basement. His mood darkens further. Either Russia has escaped, or someone has come into his home. Germany narrows his eyes, moving forward to deal with either occurrence. His expression is unforgiving as the blood thrums in his veins to deal with the cause head-on. He notices that the lights are on.

He had left Russia in the dark.

Germany represses an urge to shout expletives at this unwelcomed circumstance. Slowly, he descends the stairs, ready to deal with another damned nation causing a fuss. His hand slips into his pocket, holding onto a knife inconspicuously carried there. He flips it open, still in his pocket, ready to take care of any potential 'problem'. Yet, as he reaches the bottom step, he forgets all about the weapon.

He forgets about his anger and rage.

Germany forgets everything except the sight before him.

America is sitting in the blood-stained chair. A simply nightdress on. One of the ones he had purchased for her and kept in the room he had prepared for her. For when he finally had her by his side. He could smell the scent of the shampoo, her shampoo -he'd gotten the exact brand to make her happy-, wafted in the previously stale air. Her blonde hair was still slightly damp, and it was down around her shoulders.

Blue eyes met blue as she smiled.

"Welcome home, Germany." She said sweetly.

For him, it was a fantasy come true. He froze. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, and he stared at her.

She bit her bottom lip, looking slightly worried. She smoothed the nightgown down a bit.

"What are you doing here?" He asked in a gruff voice, laced with lust.

"Waiting for you," she answered truthfully.

Germany could no longer hold himself back. He didn't care about Russia or the others in this moment. All that mattered was that America had come to him. He knew it. He _knew_ she loved him too. No matter what that bastard Slavic howled out. Germany strode forward, and America was pliant and willing as he grabbed her to him. His lips decended in a searing kiss.

She was everything he had dreamed of and more.

She pulled back, blushing slightly, and his pants tightened considerably at the sight.

"Up stairs?" She questioned, looking at the surroundings.

Ja. Germany agreed with her. It was too dark and the scent of stale blood and bile was still slightly detectable. Not a worthy place to consummate their love. Without a word, he swept her into his arms, and started up the steps again.

OoOoOo

The only country not surprised at the next meeting, is a stiff looking Russia, whose violet eyes burn with a white-hot intensity as he watches Germany possessively guard America. She is submissive to him.

Smart woman. She knew what Germany's deepest fantasy was. The one he had confessed to Russia in the height of the worst torture. The sort that Russia had reveled in because it was attention from Germany. Attention that is now solely on the Star-Spangled nation.

Russia swallows the sick feeling tearing up his stomach. His anger mounts, but not for the reasons he would have originally believed. The Slavic nation wants... he wants...

_Both_ of them.

And, he intends to have them.

His fists clench in his lap, as a spark of insanity grows in his violet eyes. Da, of course... he had to have them as a pair. That is where he went wrong with Germany.


End file.
